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ALLEN DORMAN. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S 



POEMS. 



A COLLECTION OF SEVEN HUNDRED 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS. 



/ 



CHICAGO: "^ ^-' 

AMERICAN PUBLISHERS' ASSOCIATION. 
1892. 



^'f 



Entered according to Act of Congress 
in the year 1892, by 

ALLEN DOKMAN, 

In the OflBce of the Librarian of Congress, 

At Washington, D. C. 



TFIIS BOOK RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 



:i TO 



THE BETTERMENT OF MANKIND. 

BY 

The Author. 



WHAT BOOK OF LIFE, WHAT AUTHOU'S BOOK — 

THAT LIVES IN HEARTS OF MEN — 
CAN CLAIM ITS LEAVES NO BLOT HATH SOILED, — 

ON EVERY PAGE A GEM. 



INDEX. 



A Good Book . 

Authors 

A Morning: in May 

Absent but True . 

A Return of Thanks 

A Sad Dream 

A Broken Heart 

A Dream of Deatli 

An Ugly Matcli 

A Darkey Prayer . 

A Song of Summer 

A Prayer for Little Girls 

A Drunkard's Grave 

Angels Lead 

A Lover's Lament 

Accept this Present 

A Darkey Convention 

A Prostitute's Lament 

At Peace with God 

A Little Bad Luck 

Associations 

ACampMeetin' 

A Lover's Proffer 

A Lover's Ueply 

A Boss Mash . 

An Occasional Puff 

A Notification . 

At Noon in May 

A Masher's Mash 

Ambition . 

A Visit to Youth's School-room 

Attention Democrats 

All That Life Has Been 

A Dawn of Hope . 

A Mashed Dude 

A Nap at Noon 

A Big Gun 

A Good Mar 

Alone To-Night 

All Who Try 



33 
34 
35 
36 
37 
38 
46 
47 
48 
48 

505 
50 
64 
62 
63 
64 
55 
66 
57 
68 
59 
61 
62 
78 

605 
65 
66 
67 
68 
69 
71 
72 
73 
73 
74 
74 
75 
76 
76 



11 



INDEX. 



A Retlui' Life . 

At Eiirly Morn 

A Ni-w Uf.sDlvi^ 

A l,ii\ ii's < '(iiiiiilaiiit 

All IliiiH'st Mun 

Aspii-ai ion 

Alli'ii l)<>i-iiinn . 

A D:iy of Dcfds 

All EpiUi.pli 

Boys 

ULMUliful find Tuir 

lUiilt up at Hoiiiu . 

Biasited Hopes . 

Boauby 

Belrayed 

IJitltles Needed 

Broiien llesiits 

Baiid CoUctiO 

Buiied Tlioujrlits 

Bright Days 

Beautify Vnnr llonR'S 

Better Days 

Blooming for tlie Tomb 

Briglit Eternily 

Ca 111 pbel lite 

Courting: Days 

College Girls . 

Clierislied Ht)pes . 

Conteiittiieiit . 

CLiarles Wesley 

Charles Dickens 

Cheerful and 'J'ruo 

Dewdroi)s 

Days of V ore 

Do Not Leave . 

Do Angels Know . 

Deserted Love . 

Do Maidens Tell . 

Don't Breali the Heart 

Death's Phantoms 

Darkey in the Cold 

Doctrines . 

Days Gone By . 

Darling- 

Death's Narrow Sea 

Do Men Love War ? 

Don't be a Fooliti' 

Dream of Beauty . 

Dog Trade 

Dark Souls 



7» 
7'J 
8U 
8.i 

loa 

SJ 

bi 

a;, 

b7 
iS 

to, 

8'J 
9U 
•JO 
91 
'S^ 

94 
9j 
95 
90 
97 
93 
99 
99 
ItO 
KMJ 
101 

I >J 

liu 
11).-) 
|ir> 
HIT 
L«S 
1119 
110 
111 
11;: 
IW 
lU 
115 
511 
14:j 
116 
US 



INDEX. 



iii 



Don't he &-m\ 

Death's TniubUd Sea 

Days Misspent 

Daniel VVibstcr 

DaysTliui Have K.ow 

Drunkards 

Down in Hi'll . 

Kartlily Homes 

Excuse Me, Lovo 

Everywliei-e 

Essence' of Love 

Eiiyatfed 

Exposed 

Envy 

Eternity 

Early Inipi-essioiis 

Eveniiiif Sliades 

Fannie 

Foriiiven 

For Old Atf-e 

Fair WDineri 

Flowers 

For;;etrul Nature 

Fallen Men 

Fame . 

Fallen Brothers 

Follow Mo 

Famous 

Foiever 

Fatlier Come Home 

Fair Morninjr . 

Far-Seeintf Deniocrai 

Father is Dead 

Feeble A^e 

Farewell to Thee, Faiini 

Fadinjr 

Grim Critics 

G ive Me Lovo 

Gems in Dust . 

George K. Sneililicr, Ii 

Gen. U.S. Grant 

Good Intentions 

Golden Days . 

Grief 

Give Me Peace 

Going- with Another 

Glorious 

God is Love 

Give Me One Llu<> 

Georgre WasliinBion 



118 
119 

lao 

IJSJ 

323 

504 

124 

135 

126 

126 

127 

128 

139 

139 

130 

130 

506 

133 

131 

133 

133 

134 

135 

136 

137 

139 

140 

140 

508 

509 

141 

285 

141 

531 

143 

142 

176 

508 

143 

144 

144 

145 

146 

147 

148 

143 

149 

507 

149 



IV 



INDEX. 



Great Men 

Good Deeds 

Good Impressions 

Gossip 

Gab Blabs 

How Cheerless 

Happiness 

Hearts that Mourn 

Home of the Beautiful 

Hit or Miss 

Hope . 

Human Nature 

Her Features . 

Horace Greeley 

How They Jingle 

Hope and Faith 

How it Cost 

Hot Weather 

Henry Clay 

Henry Kirke White 

Helping- Hearts 

Hurled in the Past 

Heaven 

H. W. Longfellow 

Home . 

Hon. A. H. Stephens 

Homer 

Hell 

In Return 

I Love my Little Lady 

Interviewed 

Improve Your Time 

It Faintly Shone 

I Loathe 

Imperiled Youth 

In the Right 

I Dreamt A Dream 

I Was Wrong 

I'll Call Her Darling 

In your Way 

I Loved A Girl 

I Tried 

Intentions 

I'll Bet 

In the Lights . 

In Pain We Part . 

Immortal Men 

I Remembered 

I Loved Thee , 

Inflictions 



150 
150 
151 
151 
174 
152 
153 
154 
155 
156 
157 
158 
159 
159 
160 
160 
161 
161 
162 
162 
163 
163 
164 
164 
165 
165 
166 
166 
167 
168 
169 
170 
171 
172 
173 
175 
175 
177 
178 
179 
179 
180 
181 
182 
183 
184 
185 
186 
187 
188 



INDEX. 


V 


I Would Live Always . 


189 


It Blew .... 


. 190 


Ill the Distance 


190 


Indeed .... 


. 191 


In the World . 


19] 


Justice , , . . 


. 193 


Jiiiled . , , , 


]'.« 


Just a Dreiim . , , 


, U« 


Jake and June , 


, . 193 


Just tlie Reason . , , 


, 194 


John S. Lindsey, in Memoriam 


. , 194 


Jane S.Hancock, My Aged Grandpapt 


ipr.iii Mill wiiam 195 


James A. Garfield . . , 


, 507 


John A. Logau , , 


198 


John Aduins . , , 


, , 198 


John Qulncy Adams . , 


, 199 


James Madison . i . 


, . 199 


John I. Blair . , , 


200 


James Monroe , , , 


. 200 


John Taylor . , , 


201 


James K. Polk 


. 201 


James Buchanan , . 


203 


James G. Blaine . 


, 203 


J. Gould 


203 


John Morgan . , , 


. 203 


John Milton 


203 


Joseph H. Patterson, Colored, in Mer 


noriam . 204 


Jesus .... 


204 


Kept True 


. 205 


Kindness 


205 


Kissing and Courting 


. 509 


Kindred Scenes 


207 


Kind Words 


. 207 


Longing to Meet Thee . 


208 


Love's True Hope . 


. 208 


Lost Men 


209 


Little by Little 


. 209 


Let me Dream . 


210 


Lord Byron 


. 210 


Labor .... 


211 


Lost and Ruined . 


. 213 


Love Consoled . 


216 


Lillie .... 


. 206 


Little Lovers . 


217 


Life Is What We Make It . 


. 218 


Love .... 


510 


Lovely Women 


. 219 


Love Will Come No more 


220 


Lost Love . 


221 


Lovely Maiden 


322 



vi 



INDEX. 



Life TI.is Boon Vain 

Love Is Coiiiiiiy: 

Lovti's Dre;im 

Left When Angry 

Little Laws 

Lost Cm Found 

Lost Life . 

Love Botruj^ed 

Lucre 

Live for Me 

Love To-iilB-lit 

Little Girls 

Love's Golden D:ij' 

Love iind Labor 

Lures of 9ia 

Love's Council . , 

liingers With Its O^vii 

Longing in the Ileiirt . 

Life Beyond 

Lift the Fallen 

Life's Destiny 

Liucola , . 

Lovers . . 

Life's Sun . , 

Local Option 

Love's Home . 

Love Cornered 

Little Misses 

Lost Features 

Life's Summers 

Legends of Time 

Love and Mercy 

Life's Battles 

My Best Girl . 

My Darling: 

Mule . 

My Friend 

Men We Envy . 

My Maiden 

My Teaclier's Tomb 

JTy Lassie O' 

My Book 

Many Thanks 

Maiden 

My Little Lady 

My Choice 

Mamie, My Deceased School 

Much Remains 

May I Not . 

Mag-gie 



233 
224 
224 
235 
22a 
221} 
827 
833 
839 
330 
611 

m 
m 
m 
m 
m 
m 

837 

838 
33S 



340 
241 
243 
240 
243 
243 
344 
344 
345 
345 
346 
347 
348 
248 
349 
349 
250 
251 
253 
253 
354 
512 
255 
356 
513 
257 
358 



INDEX. 



vii 



Minnie .... 

Mamie in Ht'iiven 

My Lust Scliuulbell 

Millie Wbite, Colored, in Memoriam 

My Foes .... 

Men and Women 

Most Awful Sick . . , 

Mourn Not For Me . , 

Mt'H of Deeds . . , 

My Sad Heart . . , 

My Aged Teacher . 

Minded Meddlers , , 

Maiden and the Male . 

Maiden's Nature . i 

My Birthplace . , • 

Morning of Decay . , . 

Mortality . . . 

Men's Wives . . • 

Mashed . . • 

Miss Anna .... 

Miss Ella 

Music .... 

Mr Jefferson D.n is 

Martin Van Burcn . , 

Millard Fillmore 

Mr. Grover Cleveland 

Mr. Benjamin Harrison 

Mingled with Sorrow 

Meet Me In That Olher World . 

Mother Is Dead , 

Mrs. M. A. Gantt. iu Memoriam 

Mrs. W. F. Carter, in Memoriam 

Mrs. Fannie Prince, in Mpiiioii;ini 

Mrs. Fannie Moad, in Mimm ismi . 

Mrs. E. L. Price, in Menioriani 

Mrs. F, M. De LaVerjine, in Moinoi iii 

Miss Maprgie Salmon, in Mfinoriam 

Miss Annie Park=, in Memoriam 

Miss Mattie Snelling:, In Memoriam 

Miss Cnllie Mnrpliy, in Memoriam . 

Miss Birdie Lucas, in Memoriam 

Miss Birdie Maxwell, in Memoriam 

Miss Emma Williams, iu Memoriam 

Meet Me, Mother . 

Napoleon Bonaparte 

N- P. Willis 

Noah Webster . 

Not Accepted 

Not Guilty 

Nature Taught 



260 
361 
263 
265 
266 
267 
368 
269 
270 
271 
273 
873 
274 

m 

51ti 
276 
284 
887 
878 
278 
278 
879 
279 
280 
280 
281 
281 



283 

285 
286 
286 
287 
288 
29] 
293 
294 
295 
295 
294 
296 
296 
297 
297 
300 
300 
301 
301 



viii 



INDEX. 



Nancy Jane - 

Nature's Store 

Not the Name 

No One Cared For Mv. 

Only a Wish - 

Old Balky - 

Once Friendly 

One Purpose 

Out Kun the Horso , 

One For an Audieuci; 

Only a Dream 

Once Bright 

Only a Lesson 

Old Memories 

Oliver Cromwell 

Oliver Goldsmith 

President Johnson , 

Patrick Henry 

Phineas Fletcher 

Plato 

President Pierce 

Parting Pilgrims 

Pompey 

Peter Cooper 

President Arthur 

President Jacljson 

Prof. E. W. Stowell - 

Possessions 

Pursuits 

Personalities 

Pleasures 

Patience 

Purity - 

Poor 

Power - - - 

Poor John Fitch - 

Prince Bismarck 

Paul Jones 

Peter the Great 

Pardon Me 

Philip Sidney 

Prosperous Days 

Prayer 

Poor Man's Day - 

Perpetual Motion 

Passing Away 

Pretty Girls - 

Praise of Morn 

Poor Men 

Pleasure and Pain 



299 

302 
303 
303 
304 
304 
305 
306 
307 
307 
308 
S08 



810 
i)10 
311 
811 

3l!i 

318 
813 
313 
3U 
314 
315 
315 
316 
316 
317 
317 
318 
318 
318 
319 
319 
320 
320 
320 
321 
321 
321 
322 
322 
323 
324 
325 
326 
38? 



INDEX. is 

Pleasant Days ------ 328 

Prof. J. N. Cook, in Mcmoriam - • - 329 

Poor but True .... - - 330 

Praise ------- 331 

Queen Victoria ------ 332 

Queen Elizabeth . . - . . 332 

Queen of This Heart - - - - - 332 

Questions Popped ----- 333 

Kefresliing Showers - - - - - 333 

Revived Hopes ------ 334 

Remember Me .----- 335 

Roses 336 

Rough Women ....--. 336 

Refused 337 

Robert G. Ingersoll . . - - 338 

Ruined tor Life ------ 339 

Rev. H. W. Beecher - - - - 341 

Rev. Knowle Shaw 518 

Redeem Him .-..-- 342 

Rash Thouglits 342 

Remembered Sickness - - - - - 517 

Robert Burns ..---- 343 

Responsibility - - - . . 343 

Revenge ------- 343 

Rutherfoid B. Hayes 344 

Robert Toombs ----- . 344 

Rainy Days ------- 345 

Rejected 345 

Rij-hts - - - - . - - - 345 

Robert Blair 346 

Reason 341 

Reality ------- 353 

Richard Proctor - - - ... 346 

Romance - - - - - - - 347 

Recognition - ...--- 347 

Roscoe Conkliu ------ 347 

Relief - - - , 348 

Rulig-ion - - - - - - - 348 

RobtTt Boyle 348 

Redenipiion ------ 349 

Restless Desires - - . - - 349 

RicliMKl Hooker 349 

Resolution ------- 350 

Research ------ 515 

Richani Baxter 350 

Repairing ..----- 350 

Ricli Men 353 

Robert Southwell ----- 351 

Robert Fulton 351 

Roy J. Burge 352 



INDEX. 



Robert Lee , . , 


. 3S2 


Stonewall Jackson 


375 


Science .... 


. 353 


Seeds We Scatter 


504 


Sing To Me, Love 


. 354 


Sweet Heaven . 


354 


Shades of Sorrow . 


. 355 


Sought and Cherished . 


356 


Sad and Lonely . 


, 356 


Straying Hearts 


358 


She Came to Me 


. a58 


Seeking Praise 


a59 


Side-Tracked 


.359 


Sinful Thoughts 


360 


Self-Thinkers . . 


.360 


Self-MadeMen . 


360 


Seeking the Sunlight 


. 361 


Summers 


361 


Some Sad Heart 


. 361 


Silken Snares . 


36i 


Sir Thomas Moore . 


.363 


Satan .... 


. . 363 


System .... 


. 363 


Seasons . . , 


363 


Sweet Memory 


.363 


School .... 


364 


Solitary .... 


. 364 


Stations in Life 


361 


Storms .... 


. 365 


Style . . . 


365 


Sad Memory 


.3*55 


She is Waiting . 


3(» 


She Charms Me When I'm S.irt 


. 366 


She Was Fair . 


367 


She Loved Him 


. 367 


Spring is Nigh . 


357 


She's a Honey 


. 3.!8 


Surprised . . . 


368 


Satan's Bench 


. 369 


Sought in Vain 


372 


Sorrows . . 


.373 


Selfishness 


373 


Sympathy . . . . 


. 373 


Shores of Time . 


.■573 


Spring .... 


.374 


Smooth Sailing 


ril7 


Sins .... 


. S'iC, 


Slighted Love . 


376 


Shame .... 


. 377 


Silent Worth . 


377 



TNDIOX. 



zi 



Sir Isaac Newto-i , 
Samuel J. Tikleii 
Sii' Ff!uu-is Di-aUe . 
Senator Geo. G. West 
Sii' Rifhiird Steele . 
Sialioiied Lights 
Sainuel Joluisoii 
Spooks 
Sinver.- 

Slii\ IT of Men . 
Stars 

Speciilulioiis 
Seeliiriii' ilie Truth . 
Slie Loved Another 
Stephen A. Dou^tlas 
Servant Girls 
Samuel Adiims 
Sir Matliew Halo 
Siiadows 
Samuel Hutler 
Stations in Time 
She was True . 
Sociiilism . 
Sincerity 

Socrates . , 

Southern Climes 
Success 
Seekers 
Sweet Women 
Sonjis of Otlier Hirds 
Spriiif;' is Fleeting- 
Summer Da5's . 
Shall Earth Retain 
Sad from Sorrow 
Sold 

Sweet Maiden . 
The lleautifiil 
TheTraiTi My IJook Left 
The Same Fix 
The Ilisinj;- Sun 
The Prairie Rose 
Thumps for Me 
Thanks 
Traded it Off 
Tlie F;illin!4- Leaflet 
Tlie Clinton Battle 
Tlie Tebo Waji-on 
This Vain World 
'J'his Sad Heart 
TbatSrtucj' Look 



377 
3Ty 
378 
378 
37'J 
371) 
379 
3S0 
380 
381 
382 
38a 
382 
38:3 
383 
383 
384 
384 
384 
381 
381 
388 
386 
380 
387 
387 
388 
380 
38(i 
385 
389 
390 
391 
392 
393 
394 
394 
395 
395 
396 
397 
404 
398 
398 
400 
401 
402 
403 
409 
410 



Xii INDEX. 








The Little Birds . . . . .411 


The Southern Cause 


412 


The North . 


, ^ 


, 413 


To My Mother . 




414 


That Far Away Home 




, 


. 415 


That Girl so Fair 






416 


The Soul's Identity 






. 405 


The Aimless Biirk 






406 


The Book of Life . 






. 407 


The Song She Sang 






408 


The Shop of Toil , , 






. 408 


The Glow of Youth 






423 


Time's Flaming Sword 






. 418 


This Tenant House 






418 


This Sorrowful World 






. 419 


Toil On . 






419 


The Light of Faith 






. 420 


This Turning World 






420 


The Bloody Shirt . 






. 421 


Thou Must Eeturn 






421 


Treasured in Time 






. 422 


Tiger .... 






425 


The Wasp . 






. 417 


Too Smart 






423 


Trials 






. 423 


To Write a Book 






424 


This World of Cares 






. 453 


The Soul's Flight 






453 


The Moving Bark . 






. 456 


The Girl He Loved 






453 


To the Memory of G. W. Hancock . 






. 426 


The Bible 






425 


Thomas Moore . 






. 437 


Thomas Jefferson 






427 


The Band Boys 






. 428 


The Old Year 1889 






428 


The New Year 






. 444 


Truth .... 






439 


That Sun . 






. 430 


Those Times Have Passed 






451 


The Sunny South . 






. 432 


This Gloomy Life 






433 


The Past . 






. 434 


The Dying Stranger 






436 


The Firm Rock 






. 436 


The Old School House . 






230 


The First Sin . 






. 437 


Trials Foieseen 




438 


True Friendship . . 




. 440 


Times of Life . 






440 



INDEX. 



ziii 



The Evening- Star Debate . 


. 441 


The Pilgrim's Marcli 


441 


The Myth of Lovers' Leap 


. 443 


The Fountain Heart 


443 


The Judgment .... 


. 443 


The Clinton Well 


443 


Thomas Gray .... 


, 444 


The Crucifixion 


446 


The Harvest 


. 446 


The Right Way 


m 


The Lonely Lune .... 


. m 


Turn Back .... 


447 


The Dead ..... 


. 447 


The Ebb of Hope 


449 


The Fountain .... 


. 44a 


Thoughts Preserved 


449 


The Stationless Journey . , 


. 449 


Time and Tears . , , 


460 


The Ladder of Fame 


, 460 


The Second Word 


463 


The Dark that Never Anchors 


. 464 


The Earnest Foe . . . . 


464 


The Tomb of My Mother . 


. 465 


The Wear of Time 


467 


The Battle in Heaven 


. 467 


Trouble .... 


466 


Thoiuas Hood .... 


. 46S 


The Spirit's Will 


466 


The Guards .... 


. 177 


The Call of Angels 


204 


The Poet Virgil .... 


. 458 


The Race . . . . 


458 


The Convicted . . . - 


. 459 


This World is Not 


436 


The Mind . . . , , 


. 459 


The Vast Beyond 


459 


Tlie Future 


. 483 


The Moving- Cloud 


460 


There is a Hope ... 


. 460 


Tlie Upper Crust 


461 


Thoug-htless Desires 


. 461 


They Live as We 


461 


True Love .... 


. 462 


That Girl so True 


463 


Tied in Traces . . . - 


. 465 


Treasured Youth . 


463 


True We Part . . 


. 464 


To Love Thee . . . , 


515 


Unloaded . . . , . 


465 


Uncle Jessie's Dream , . 


466 



INDEX. 



Unkind .... 




466 


Undying- Love - . - . 




467 


Viftno . , , . 




467 


Vain Ties of Heart 




468 


Vain Lovers , - , . 




■ 469 


Vexai.ious - ■• • , 




470 


Vain Love . - r . 




470 


Victor Hggo , r , . 




470 


Waki'iied Mepaorics 




471 


WilliMm Shakespeare - . 




m 


William JJlaeiistonu » 




478 


Wli.v Envy Me . . . , 




4T3 


Worldly Waste 




470 


William put . . . , 




470 


Winters of Life 




47a 


Where I Was Corn 




474 


Wonders , . . r . 




474 


Walter Scott .... 




474 


Without Graves 




475 


Weapons of Warfare 




475 


Winter Days .... 




476 


When He's Down 




47Q 


WronyLove .... 




477 


When \^'e Were young 




4V7 


Wasted Yuulii 




478 


Warninjis of Doom 




482 


Wisdom . . . . . 




482 


WiUiiimPenn .... 




483 


Watciiing the Sunbean b - 




515 


William Henry Harrison 




483 


Wliisky Habits . . - . 




484 


Work 




485 


Wasting' Away . . . , 




485 


William Cowpcr 




485 


Women Warriors . - - . 




479 


When Slic Came to Me 




480 


Wliy Should I Weep 




481 


Wife Thieves .... 




m 


William Lloyd Stewait 




520 


Wlien My Lovely Maid Was Vouiis' - 




487 


When the Heart is Sad 




488 


Work in Season - - - - 




489 


Wise Fools - . . - 




489 


Weary of Courtship 




489 


Who is My Guide - . - - 




490 


Worldly Praise . - - - 




490 


When Hearts Are Cliarmcd 




491 


We Cannot Wed - - - - 


- 


491 


Write to Me - 




493 


When I Get Old . . - - 


- 


492 



INDEX. 



Wonderful Spirits 
Was Wroiifi- 
When We Die 
Won at Last 
Wealj and Weaiy 
Weary Hearts 
When We Labor 
Welcome, Thrice NWlcomo 
Weeds . 

Weeping- EnUilcnis 
Weary Pilgrinis 
Waiting- and Trusting 
Why Don't They Weep 
Youth's Sports • 
Youth's Resolves 
Youth's Kindness 
Youth - 

lIToung- and Pretty 
Zachary Taylor 
Zeal ' 



- 


- 


- 


• 493 






- 


493 


- 


- 




- 494 








494 




- 




- 495 








495 




• 




- 490 


3 






519 




' 


' 


' 496 
499 




- 


~ 


. 497 
497 




• 


. 


• 498 








600 




- 


- 


- 501 








499 




- 


. 


■ 502 








m 




- 


- 


■ 503 








603 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PORTRATE OF AUTHOR 

Home Near Birth Place 
Beautify Your Homes 
Days of Yore 
Do Men Love War? 
George Washington 
Country Scliool House 
The Lincoln Monument 
My Maiden 
Benjamin Harrison 
Grover Cleveland • 
Mother - • 

Mortality - 
Prince Bismarck - 
Refreshing Showers 
School 
Spring 

Samuel J. Tilden - 
Summer Days 
Falling Leaflet 
The Southern Cause 
Tlie Sunny South 
Winter Days 
Youth's Sports - 
James A. Garfield - 
Birth Place 



Frontispiece 



93 

103 

H5 

149 



S50 
281 
281 
283 
884 
319 
338 
364 
374 
378 
390 
400 
412 
432 
476 
'500 
507 
516 



BIOGRAPHICAL. 

Allen Dorman was born Sept. 9, 1857, on a farm 
near Huntingdale and Garland, Fields' Creek Town- 
ship, Henry County, Missouri. His nativity was 
that of the rolling prairies of the then wild west. 
His parents were not wealthy, and so little Allen 
began life by being rocked in a half of a bee-hive. 
Allen's family was of the common country folks. 
His childhood gave no promise that the name would 
ever be associated with the honored list known to 
fame. While a boy he was not remarkable • no 
matrons prophesied, nor seers saw visions in which 
he figured. He was only a common robust boy, 
and his advent was hailed with delight, because in 
this broad unsettled country there was room for 
thousands such. 

At the age of five years Allen attended school. 
After the novelty of the first few days wore ofl", he, 
doubtless, like other boys, wondered why he could 
not be like Patrick Henry and other boys who had 
become great men j have the world for his school- 
master and nature for his text book, instead of 
"Dave Hampton and the Elementary Spelling 
Book." 

At this period in Allen's life, war threatened 
the fraternal bonds of this Union, and secession 
attempted to rend the stars and stripes. Allen's 
father, Mathew Dorman, enlisted in the Confeder- 



li BIOGRAPHICAL. 

ate army, and tlie mother, Rebecca Dorman, and 
her boy sought refuge under tlie roof-tree of the 
lad's grandparents, near Clinton; and Allen was 
sent to school in Clinton. After the meeting of 
Gen. Grant and Gen. Lee at Appomattox, Mathew 
Dorman returned to the bosom of his family and to 
his ante-bellum log cabin. Allen worked with his 
father on the farm and a part of the time attended 
such schools as the country then afforded. In 1870 
he became interested in his own education and at- 
tended a few parts of terms at Clinton. At the 
age of fourteen ho joined the Christian Church, and 
on September 4, 1872, he wrote his first article 
for the press, and in his own words, "This was a 
Fizzle." Not to be discouraged by the fate of his 
first manuscript, and fearless of the terrors of the 
waste basket, he tried again and again, with better 
success. His short poems, written under a nom de 
plume, were copied by the papers that had refused 
them at first. Thus encouraged by prestige and 
audience, he began in earnest and has written over 
one thousand articles, both poetry and prose, for 
the press. 

In 1882 he had saved a small collection of short 
poems, which he offered for publication. D. Apple- 
ton & Co., Harper Bros., and others refused to make 
suitable terms. More than seventy-five publishing 
firms had figured on issuing the book up to 1886. 
The collection now consisted of about three hundred 
and fifty poems, and during this time the manuscript 
had been in the hands of five publishers, and had 



BIOGRAPHICAL. Ill 

experienced over three hundred defeats. During 
all this time this aspiring young genius continued 
to farm. Finally, in 1889, " Local and National 
Poets of America" gave our young hero honorable 
mention, and terms upon which his book will be 
issued were soon made with the American Publish- 
ers' Association of Chicago. The first edition 
contains over seven hundred selections in verse. 
Thus at the age of thirty-four years the first edition 
of Allen Dorman's Poems lias appeared upon the 
market, giving Missouri her first full morocco, and 
building a claim in the hearts of men that can only 
be built by the scholars of literature and research. 
His dear, devoted Christian mother, who had 
been his constant stay and help, died April 18, 1889, 
in her 55th year. His aged fnther died February 19, 
1892, in his 70th year. Allen has never married, but 
says he has loved. He has not entirely eschewed 
the gentler sex, but is cautious. With a determin- 
ation as dauntless as that of a Napoleon, we see 
him rise from obscurity, overcome obstacle after 
obstacle, bearing the jeers of doubters, yet never 
doubting, never faltering in the faith of his own 
ability to some day catch the ear of an attentive 
and appreciative public. He is to-day a living ex- 
emplification of determination that should be emu- 
lated more extensively by young America. Such 
grit, such determination, such labor, will always win. 

w. M. G. 



A GOOD BOOK. 

A good book is a treasuic, 
A sacred e:e!n of worth, 

That came trom a good author, 
While he was on the earth 

It is a benefaction 
■ For other liearts to reapj 

And if its known as worthy, 
Its raei"its will not slee]"". 

A o-ood b(^(>k is a l)lessing- 

That meets a public; need, 
And ])roMipts within the reader 

The act of souk; good deed. 
And God will give those credit 

Who wisely use the pen, 
And have their books remenibcred 

Within the hearts of men. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 



AUTHORS. 

Authors are the meu who hibor 

For the training of the soul, 
And they should be very careful 

What they teach to young and old. 
They are leaders, they are teachers, 

They are hearts of shining light, 
And should teach, by their example, 

What is good and what is right. 

He who writes a book should tremble, 

And should weigh his words with thought; 
For as angry words, when written. 

Are to others likewise taught. 
Yes to live is something serious, 

And to teach is something true j 
That we teach to souls immortal 

What we say and what we do. 

Authors may be good and useful — 

Sowing seeds along the way- 
Living for a noble purpose. 

Driving darkness out of day. 
Yet how often do some authors 

Spend their time in doing bad, 
Sowing seeds of sin and satan 

For the weary and the sad. 

Yes, we all are living authors, 

Writing books and sowing seed, 
And we often have in treasure 

What some other heart may need. 
Let us then be ever watchful 

What we do, and what we say, 
As each heart is for a purpose. 

And must live beyond earth's day. 



34 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

A MORNING IN MAY. 
Of all the lovely mornings 

So pleasant and so fair, 
That luininates a life time 

Above all thoughts of carej 
I think the clear and brightest 

That ever dawned for day, 
Was one blight lovely moi-ning 

That came in month of May. 

It was a moi-n of mornings, 

A phantom of delight- 
The sun rose in the glory 

Of all his splendor bright. 
The heavens smiled to greet him, 

And blended into day, 
The forests and the mountains 

All gladdened in their way. 

How sweet it is to cherish 

The happy thoughts of youth, 
When memoi-y turns backward 

Its veil of real truth ; 
And there reveal the glad'nings 

Of morning and of song, 
Of noonday and the evening, 

And darkness coming on. 

But yet to me that morning 

Was pleasant and sublime, 
Tho' nothing in its nature 

Was lasting or divine. 
Yet let us live and labor 

And treasure while we may, 
The happy thoughts of morning 

Of that eternal day 



AL£-EN DORMANS POEMS. 35 

ABSENT BUT TKUE. 

Excuse me, love, jes pardon me, 

I trust you will not bhune 
This heart that dwells in absence now, 

But loves thee all the same. 
I know that thou art far away; 

I feel that thou art blest, 
Yet O, I love the gentle heart 

That dwells within thy breast. 

Excuse me, love, I trust you will; 

Yes, love, remember me ; 
And 1 will do the same by you 

Wherever I may be. 
I'll think of future years to come, 

Life's rosy dreams I'll know, 
I'll think of thee in memories 

As seasons come and go. 

Though I may wander far away 

And other faces see. 
Yet I will cherish love yon know 

And ever think of thee. 
Yes I will cherish future hopes. 

Through pleasure and through pain. 
And think of praise, of other days 

When we shall meet again. 

I know that hopes must pass away, 

And dreams must sadly end; 
So I will meet while life is sweet. 

And choose thee as a friend. 
Yes I will love and cherish thee, 

Thro' happy years to come; 
And when at last our days are past, 

We'll love till life is done. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

A RETURN OF THANKS. 

It is sweet and it is sacred, 

It is more than one should ask, 
To receive of friends around them, 

Favors from their daily task. 
Hearts so true and neighbors friendly, 

Hearts of kindness and of praise. 
Ever cheers us in our duty 

Tiiro' the toils of sunny days. 

Yes, this heart is ever grateful, 

It is pleased and it is glad, 
Tliat it mcit such fi'iendly favors, 

Tho' at first it made it sad. 
May the Lord be with the friendly. 

May he keep lliem cUiy and night. 
They who dare to do their duty, 

Simply for the love of right. 

Such may soothe my many troubles, 

Such may right my humble wrongs, 
As they happen on life's journey, 

Checkered in life's changing songs. 
Life is cheered with many blessings. 

Blessings sweet that crown the day. 
When we meet such deeds of kindness 

As we journey on the way. 

Wo may live for hopes and pleasures. 

We may do what good we can, 
Yet in life we are but mortals. 

Marching for another land. 
Soon this life will close its labors, 

And our features ])ass away: 
So let's labor in the liarvest. 

While the sunlight gives us day. 



f ;t 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS, 37 ■ 

A SAD DREAM. 

It was long, long years ago '•■: ;'•* = 

When earthly cares were few, • '^ 'j f 

I dreamt a dream — a serious dream — ' ■'■■^ 'r''-K 

Which since has happened true: 
I dreamt of meeting one so fair, 

And bidding her good good-by — 
No more to meet while life was sweet 

Or cherish sigh for sigh. 

Yes, we were school-mates in the past, 

In snimy days of yore. 
But she has since forsakened me. 

And youth will come no more. 
'Twas in those days, those sunny days, 

When we could often meet, 
I dreamt a dream that we must part, 

But thought it naught to keep^ 

I know not why I passed it by - 

With such a thoughtless glance, 
Unless that I don'i much believe 

In what wo dream, or chance. 
I thought it wortuless to preserve, 

Tliough since we've often met, 
I thouglit it but an idle dream. 

And one to soon forget. 

Though life has many sorrows now, 

May all prove for the best, 
That we may look to Grod'for help •-?'• -'fj-t 

That he may give us rest. 
Yes, he will help our troubled hearts 

To seek that peaceful shore. 
Where weary scmiIs may find relief r ■ ?*i '-'tlji 

And live forever more. '-" "^^^ '-'r ;...■ vv.:^ -jd} s^ 



r 



i}tfr j--Jf 



38 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

A BROKEN HEAET. 
I've often watched the trying scenes 

Of sickness, grief and strife, 
And known the grief and miseries 

Tliat happens in one's life; 
I've been where nature's angry storms 

Were raging in the sky, 
And heard its deafening thunderbolt 

That seemed to be so nigh. 

IVe felt a burden in my breast, 

A sigh for sorrow's sake. 
And O. when bitter grief would come 

I've felt my heart would break. 
I've stood where dying friends lay sick 

And felt they soon must part — 
But O, of all that tries me most 

Is that a broken heart. 

Oh, Fannie, Fannie, it was you, 

'Twas you and you alone, 
'Twas only you this heart has loved, 

For you this heart must jnourn. 
And you are gone, yes, you are gone, 

How can my heart be true? 
My heart is weak and dying now, 

It thinks of only you. 

Farewell, farewell, alas, farewell ! 

Adieu, farewell, good-by ! 
My heart is bleeding every breath. 

Its broke, and soon must die. 
The future has no charms for me. 

Since all my hopes are gone, 
And life's without its future bright 

As day without its dawn. 



ALLEN DORMANS FOEMS. 39 

My heart is aching all the time, 

I'm sick and am not well, 
The cause, and O the real cause, 

It makes me sad to tell. 
I often think why this should be 

That life may live and lose 
And bring about such misery 

By what it fails to choose. 

To live is but a misery, 

And is a sin and shame, 
Tho' I must say if thus I may. 

My heart repents the same; 
For life is such that friends must part, 

With other fricTids must live, 
And though with claims they pardon us 

God only may forgive. 

Misfortune and misfortune's fate 

Is what Tm prone to know, 
And life with me is out at sea, 

I know not where to go j 
There's no one now that lingers nigh, 

Or tells me what ro do. 
And none that seek to comfort me 

That I could wish was true. 

And life is losing all the time 

The friends I hold so dear, 
And foes who sought to injure me 

No longer live in fear. 
My heart is sad, my hopes have fled, 

My heart has naught to give. 
My heart is dying all the time — 

It has not long to live. 

The birds that sing their gentle songs, 
And all that I may see, 



40 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

That have their sacred mission liere, 
Have lost their praise with me. 

No precious heart, no mental praise, 
Can give my heart relief; 

Its lost— the hope that nourished it — 
Its djing now in grief. 

I often try to look above 

Tlie grief that bears me down, 
But O, my heart, my aching heart, 

Is bi'oken by its wound. 
With those who have a broken heart, 

Whose hearts are prone to fall. 
My heart can feel and sympathize, 

My heart is with you all. 

Where must I go, where must I go, 

What must I do or say? 
As life is losing all the time, 

I witness every day. 
There is no heart that waits for me, 

No hope to cheer me on. 
The heart that once was dear to mc 

Is now forever gone. 

There is no sun that shines by day, 

No stars that shine at night, 
My soul is dark and turned away — 

It does not cherish light. 
The light of hope that lured my heart 

Has lost its golden spark. 
And grief has come and filled its place, 

And all within is dark. 

I often weep in solitude 

When no one else is nigh. 
And feel my heart is bleeding fast — 

I know it soon must die. 



ALIIEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 4l 

I sit upon the fence at night 

When all are fast asleep, 
And think of what has ruined me; 

I sit and mourn and weep. 

I often walk from place to place 

In search of peace and rest, 
And watch tiie moon above me bright— 

Think all save me are blest. 
And frequent, at the hush of night, 

To ease my weary mind, 
I lay my head upon my hands 

And let my heart repine. 

Then O, the grief, the flood of grief, 
; That tills my heart with pain. 
Swell thoughts of grief and misery 

I rue them all in vain. 
I search for rest, I seek for h6pe 

Tiiro' all my grief and gloom, 
And all the pleasures that I find 

Are pleasures of the tomb. 

Down in my breast there is no rest, 

For all has turned to night; 
The cloud of grief around my heart 

Broods off the sun so bi'ight ; 
And I am prone to live and mourn, 

My days unnumbered come; 
Each day that wafts me nigh the tomb 

Is cold and has no sun. 

There is no sun that shines above, 

No sun that I can see. 
No sun that makes my hefirt rejoice. 

No sun that shines for me. 
There are no friends I care to seek. 

Their hearts are cold and vain. 



4^ ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

They pass me in my misery, 
They sear my heart with pain. 

My heart is turned and I am sad, 

No price my heart can please, 
My heart is filled with agonies. 

With sorrow and disease. 
There was but one, and only one, 

My lieart has truly loved, 
The golden chords that bound our hearts 

Were bound by God above. 

'Twas in our childhood's happy days, 

Our hearts could linger nigh. 
Yes, in the days that now have past 

And in the years gone by. 
But God knows best, He is my stay — 

He knows my heart repines— 
He's brought about my misery 

To meet some good design. 

Perhaps that I should live to mourn 

Through sorrows every day, 
That others, seeing how I mourn. 

May find some better way. 
But why should I thus live and mourn 

For good that is to be. 
And know not why that 1 should mourn 

For what is naught witii me. 

I know not why my heart repines 

Or why it's bleeding sore, 
Unless it be that I have lost 

My dearest friend of yore. 
I claimed her as my only friend 

Whenever I was sad, ' 
For she was fair and beautiful. 

Her beauties made me glad. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 43 

Oft in my sports at sunset eve 

I've watched the sky above, 
And laid myself beneath some tree 

And thought it sweet to love. 
Yes, thought of many blessings round. 

The blessings of the day. 
And thought of future happiness 

That soon would come to stay. 

Ere least I thought it possible 

That I must live and mourn. 
Or that our hearts were prone to part — 

Be from each other torn. 
For had 1 thought it possible 

That love should loose its trust, 
I should not have claimed fair beauties 

So cruel and unjust. 

But God has taught my lieart to hope 

And worship beauties fair, 
And I have claimed fair maiden's heart 

And placed my treasures there. 
I thought she would be true to me 

And claimed her as my own. 
Since I have lost what I have claimed, 

I now submit to mourn. 

And life is all a burden now. 

Death is my only friend, 
No hopes of bright prosperity 

Can aid my heart to mend. 
Yes, I am lost, forever lost. 

And at a loss to say 
That I shall ever hope again 

To live a nobler way. 

But I will live, if I can live, 
Above all wrongs with me. 



a ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

And feel tliat all is for the best, 

Tlio' isiicli I may not see. 
For eartlih^ hearts may dare to rue 

The hearts we cannot win, 
And be unconscious of the wrong 

They do' for us within. 

But I must live to moui-n away 

A life that has no sun ; 
The future has no hopes for me, 

The past shows what lias come. 
Oh, cou'd I mend my sad mistakes 

And set me right again, 
I would not have so many foes 

To turn my dearest friends. 

But life has sadly changed with mej 

The birds are not the same, 
The tiowers that I often see 

I know them not by name. 
The clouds that move, the grass that grows, 

The step-stone at the dooi-, 
The trees so liigh, the brooklet nigh. 

Seem now the same no more. 

No earthly hopes to lure my steps. 

No hearts to make me glad. 
The spring-time with its ]tleasures now 

lias come, but 1 am sad. 
I look not for a future bright 

Of hapj^iness to come, 
I know that death must be my part, 

And soon with every one. 

My heart has lost — forever lost — 

The idol it has loved, 
It seeks for none, no earthly one. 

But looks to God above. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 45 

I know I've claimed fair maicleirs heart 

Tlie love she cannot give, 
I know that sncli has ruined me — 

I do not wish to live. 

For I am sick, I am not well, ■ 

I know, O, what lias come, 
I know what troubles I must bear, 

I know they've just begun. 
I know that I must live and monrn, 

My heart it cannot mend, 
I know that deatli must sa<lly come — 

Death is my only friend. 

Oh, who could bear to live and monrn, 

In such a world as this. 
When just beyond the clouds of death 

There is a world of bliss. 
Oh, happy, fair, that land must be, 

'Tis brighter far than day, 
And we shall plainly see it when 

The clouds have cleared away. 

Go, maiden fair, with all thy praise, 

I now can never trust 
The charms that turned my heait to thee, 

For they are only dust. 
Yes, go with all thy peace and praise, 

Since love cannot be mine, 
And seek thy home far, far away. 

And let my heart repine. 

Go. earthly treasures, with thy show. 

With all that life can db. 
As sin has often victimized 

The hearts tliat would be true. 
Though life has many pains to bear, 

When earthly friends must part, 



46 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

Yet, in such thonglits there is no pang 
That knows a broken heart. 

Farewell to all that life has been, 

And all I've wished to see, 
Since love in all its loveliness 

Is now no more with me. 
Mj mortal frame must soon decay 

My thoughts are filled with gloom. 
And often I have wished to see 

The mysteries of the tomb. 

Farewell, farewell, I must repeat. 

The theme my heart must know 
The weakness of my earthly state 

Has been my greatest foe. 
Yet life with all its good to come. 

The spring-time with all its praise. 
May change my heart from what it is, 

And brighten up my days. 

The beauties of all nature's laws, 

The study of the same. 
May yet revive my energies 

Till labor finds a name. 

know that life has much to bear, 
IT Eventful hopes are left, 
Tho' love is lost, forever lost, 

I'll labor on till death. 



A DREAM OF DEATH. 

The day was done, the night had come, 
And all save me were blest; 

And all my friends with cheerful hearts 
Had sought their place of rest. 

But I was sad, O, sad indeed. 
My heart was weak with pain, 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 47 

My earthly hopes, once sweet and bright, 
Had all been built in vain. 

But sleep is sweet with these we mourn, 

And death is often sweet, 
And 'mid my troubled thoughts of gloom 

I soon was fast asleep. 
A dream came to me as I slept; 

Methought that life was done, 
And just beyond the span of death 

Shone an eternal sun. 

Oh, heaven's home, tongue cannot tell, 

With happy angels fair, 
And o'er the endless plains of light 

Was not a cloud of care. 
Immortal home of peace and love, 

Beyond all earthly wealth. 
And all that heals a broken heart 

Was in my dream of death. 



AN UGLY MATCH. 
My girl, she seems to have no heart, 

She tries to work me up 
By going with another man, 

And tempt me for a fuss. 
She goes with him, she strolls with him. 

As if they were attached, 
While he is bad and she's gone wrong— 

They make an ugly match. 

Just look at him, O, think of him, 

An awful human calf, 
I know he has the big head. 

Because he has the laugh. 



48 ALLEN DOIIMANS POEMS. 

This is a woi-ld of clouds aiul death, 
Wliore wicked ])ei'soiia sin, 

For if he pops tlie question 
She'll surely take him in. 



A DAHKEY PRAYER 
I passed a negro church one time, 

And heard the darkies pray, 
And one old he, a happy coon, 

Prayed like a jack would bray. 
He prayed liis pi'ayer most awful loua 

As if tlie Lord was deaf. 
And offered up with lion lungs 

His messages of grief. 

If God could hear he surely heard 

That darkey pray his prayer, 
And taken under advisement 

The words he uttered there. 
They sang and prayed most furious loud 

As if to win the day. 
And get their prayers up to the God 

Who hears what darkies say. 



A SONG OF SUMMER. 
Many days have swiftly passed me, 

Since the days of long ago, 
Since I with a fishing party 

Went to catch some tisli, j'ou know. 
We all went in two-horse wagons, 

Boys and maidens all the same, 
Pies and cakes were taken with us. 

As we talked of pleasant games. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 49 

As we wandered nigh the river, 

Up the river at its side, 
It was there I was with maidens. 

Pretty maidens true and tried. 
Tliey were singing, gaily singing, 

And their voices sweetly rang, 
'Twas a little song of summer, 

Yes, a little song they sang. 

From the first we were delighted, 

In our cliildifch looks of love, 
For our meeting M-as a meeting 

As the saints maynieet above. 
It was there I walked with maidens. 

While the fishes bait our hooks. 
It was there we talked with pleasure. 

And exchanged adoring looks. 

Late that eve we talked together, 

While the moon shone o'er us bright, 
And our looks and deeds of kindness 

Were but those of true delight. 
Oh, there is a bliss in loving 

Which no sorrow should betide, 
For it rules the courts of heaven 

As it ruled the river side. 

Oh, I'll often think of maidens, 

Of those little ladies fair, 
Since they sang that song of summer. 

As we talked together there. 
Tho' I may forget those maidens. 

In some hour of thoughtless pride. 
Yet I'll ne'er forget our meeting 

There upon the river side 



60 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

A DRUNKARD'S GRAVE. 
How sad to think so many men 

With worthy hearts are found 
To have their share of reckless faults, 

That tends to crush them down. 
Yes, men of strict intelligence, 

Which nature's God would save, 
Have strayed in vice for pleasure's sake, 

And found a drunkard's grave. 

They sought the wine-cup as a sport, 

And little did they think, 
That health and peace and happiness 

Would suflfer by the drink. 
Their voyage was a dreary one, 

They drifted with the wave, 
Their bark was wrecked, their souls went 
down 

And filled a drunkard's grave. 

At first the heart was innocent. 

Enticed by social fun. 
But soon the serpent fastened there 

The work it first begun. 
And other true ones followed on, 

Once manly, true and brave. 
Went down in death with blasted hoces 

And filled a drunkard's grave. 

Thus many hearts are driven sad 

With censure and with blame, 
And many homes made desolate 

With poverty and shame. 
Yes, worthy hearts have turned aside » 

To drink, became a slave, 
And saw their brightest hopes go down 

And fill a drunkard's grave. 



AliLEN DORMANS POEMS. 51 

They were deceived by their own hearts, 

In what they thought a friend, 
For true this serpent gives the heart 

A wound that may not mend. 
They were deceived, they were beti-ayed, 

The worthy and the brave, 
To them it was a mockery, 

They filled a drunkard's grave. 

Then turn the wine-cup far away. 

And SDurn it while its red. 
For it may soon consumeth all. 

Your labor and your bread. 
Yes, be a man, a sober man. 

Each has a soul to save. 
Why should we lose what life may be 

And fill a drunkard's grave. 

Dear, manly hearts, pray think of this, 

Young men of noble minds 
Have gone astray and given up 

To sin that sadly binds. 
The fortunes that they once possessed 

For drink was freely gave. 
They squandered life and property. 

And tilled a drunkard's grave. 

It was indulgence bore them down 

To sorrow and disease. 
The wine they drank had ruined them 

And brought them misery ; 
And as friends lay them down to rest. 

Though friends had tried to save, 
May see impressed upon their brows 

These words, "A drunkard's grave. " 



S ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 

A LOVER'S LAMENT. 

_ One evening, bright and pleasant, 
, , While birds, were singing free, 
A lover sought in council 

Beneath a shady tree. 
And while he lay there thinking 

Of love, and finding none, 
Was sorely thus repenting 
Of way that he had done. 

'Twas once he loved a maiden, 

And she loved him he knew, 
But then he sought to try her — 

To see if she was true. 
He sought to test her loving 

In a reluctant way, ^. 
By going with another 

And see what she would say. 

She thought his heart was wanting, 

And thought his words were vain, 
It brought her many sorrows 

And filled her heart with pain. 
In time she sought another, 

Who loved her long and well. 
With him with true affections 

She let the story tell. 

She met him and she chose him 

As dearest friend for life. 
And he became hev .husband, 

And she became liis wife. 
And thus, with many lovers, 
Who seek to wisely choose, 
;.JEIa.ve in their pride forgotlen, 
"'^'' That they may sharply h>sG. 



ALLEN DOllMAN'S POEMS. 53 

ACCEPT THIS PRESENT. 
Accept this handsome present, 

Accept it as your own, 
And keep it as a token 

Ot' youthful pleasures known. 
Yes, keep it as a jewel, 

And as a pleasant task, 
Tliat it may cheer with gladness 

Sweet pleasures of the past. 

Yes, keep it as a favor, 

That friendships may renew, 
And good-will may bo lasting. 

And cherished long and true. 
For cherished hopes may fail us 

And vanish swift away. 
And others fill their places, 

And others likewise stay. 

Accept it as a token 

Of happy thoughts gone by, 
And when the heart is weary 

May feel their presence nigh. 
Keep it, is my j^etition, 

As time alone may'tell. 
The blessings life may gather 

With friends we love so well. 

Accept and claim it ever, 

Its value yet untold, 
That we may cherish sweeter 

The better times of old. 
Soon death may serve its summons, 

To take our souls away, 
When we may know the tokens 

Of that eternal day. 



54 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

A DARKEY CONVENTION. 

llie colored folks in darkey town, 

All met the other night, 
And for the purpose to discuss 

If Mr. Cheek was right. 
As they had heard some awful news 

About a marriage boom. 
That Mr. Cheek, Sir, was engaged 

And would get married soon. 

Judge Fillpot was the president, 

And Sandy was the clerk, 
And Uncle Jack was present there. 

And all began to work. 
As Fillpot rose to take the chair 

He made a little speech, 
And said, "the object of their call 

Was all for Mr. Cheek." 

They moved whereas that Mr. Cheek 

Was but a mortal man. 
But they would vote for Mr. Cheek 

And keep him in the van. 
Old Uncle Jorden made a speech 

And made the darkies see 
That Mr. Cheek was on the side 

That set the darkies free. 

They moved whereas that Mr. Cheek 

Was not a democrat. 
But he was plenty old enough, 

To be called Mr. Pap. 
One woman darkey rose and said,. 

"His babies should not cry," 
But all the others interfered. 

Said, "pass around the pie." 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 65 

A PKOSTITUTE'S LAMENT. 

A prostitute was lamenting 
Of evils she had done, 

And thought of her ruined condition, 
And days when she was young. 

She thought of time she had wasted 
For heinous passions of sin, [ures 

And tempted her heart with their pleas- 
Till all was wicked within. 

Yet God in his goodness and greatness 

Hath taught us to labor for right, 
And given us evil temptations, 

That we may have battles to fight. 
And mortals unmindful of mercy 

Hath failed in their struggles to win, 
And given their souls to the Devil 

And chosen his evils of sin. 

She thought of her first betrayer. 

The demon who led her astray, 
And promised her kindness and fortune. 

But taken her fortune away. 
She thought of her lost-gone virtue, 

Her home when it was right. 
Her youth in its golden perfection. 

That once was sunny and bright. 

And now in her ruined condition. 

She wishes her heart could be new— ■ 
Would turn from her sinful disgraces. 

If only her heart could be true. 
But none will come to her rescue. 

There's none that cherish her name; 
Her conscience is tied to her evils, 

Her record is blackened with shame. 



56 ALLEN DOUMAN'S POEMS. 

Her life has been one of sad troubles, 

Her homo is whei-e demons dwell, 
She's witnessed the damnable curses, 

That come to poor woman in hell. 
She's torn from her dearest companions, 

Her labors and efforts are vain, 
She sees no pleasure of sunshine, 

She's driven to censure and blame. 

There's no one to love and protect her, 

She feeh that others are blest; 
Dis2;raced, despised and forsakened, 

In death she finds mercy and rest. 
Go bury her 'neath the fair roses, 

The heart that no t)ne would claim ; 
Oil, deep, deep, beneath roses, 

As innocence was beneath slianie. 



AT PEACE WITH GOD. 
At peace with God, the God of peace, 

The God of earth and love; 
The God of praise and happiness, 

The God that rules above. 
At peace with him who gave us birth, 

And knows our nature best. 
At peace with him in all "we do, 

Sweet peace within our breast. 

At peace with God. and all is right, 

And all around is praise. 
He spreads His glories everywhere 

To glorify our days. 
At peace with God and life is blest 

With pleasure and with song, 
Then duty is a pleasant task, 

And lures us sweetly on. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 67 

A LITTLE BAD LUCK. 
On one bright morning in suainier, 

I waited for maiden fair, 
The maiden I loved and respected, 

Much with affection and care. 
When, O, to thoughts of surprising, 

She passed me hurriedly by, 
And heeded me not at leisure. 

While waiting earnestly nigh. 

Oh, maiden, a freak of thy nature, 

Why should you be cool with me; 
Tho' pilgrims may long for heaven, 

I'd fainly tarry with thee. 
Why should you be game, fair maiden, 

And turn so cruel away, 
With praise and thy charms of beauties 

You know rd lovingly stay. 

Yes, stay till the morning is ended. 

The morning of dreaming and song; 
That pleasure in all of its glory 

May cheer us unmindfully on. 
Oh, beautiful, beautiful maiden, 

Pray don't be angry to-day, 
As life 'mid wonderful dreamings 

May choose another as gay. 

A little bad luck in loving 

Is what we often may see, 
And spats of fearful romantic 

May come 'fore lovers agree. 
So let's be friendly, fair maiden, 

And let us make up once more, 
As life with its hopes of choosing 

May lose what it would adore. 



58 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

ASSOCIATIONS. 
Back to the days our childhood loved ; 

Back to tiie days of jore, 
There clusters a scene of childhood's works, 

That comes to us no more, 
•^liought may fancy them plain in vLew, 

Seemingly far away, 
Dreaming and thinking of what.they Wfire, 

Moving they could not stay. 

Back to the days we loved so well, 

Days of hopes and fears, 
Back to the days when life was free, 

Mingled with grief and tears. 
Oh to the hearts that must be sad, 

Let them be sad with me. 
Let us go back life's desolate track 

And see what brothers may see. 

Back to the years when life was sweet, 

Let us go back once more, 
Back to tiie scene our childhood knew, 

All for the days of yore. 
Back to the spot our childhood loved. 

And see if yet we know 
The home and place, each smile and face, 

Let us rejoice and go. 

Let us go back to home and friends 

And visit them while we may, 
And see what change has taken place, 

Yes, where we used to play. 
Back to our home, our old dear home, 

Let us return once more. 
This tribute we give for thethings we loved, 

Back in the days of yore. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 69 

A CAMP MEETIN'. 
When preachers of a pious mind 

Unite and sing together, 
Yes, when they hold their meetings out 

Exposed to wind and weather; 
And when they pray and preach aloud, 

And have their mourners shout, 
We love to be there looking on, 

And see them act so stout. 

'Twas on a bright and sunny day, 

We left the banner town, 
To go to preaching with some friends. 

Way up to Shawnee mound. 
It was a long and weary ride, 

And mellons then were ripe 
And we had fun that cheered us on, 

Tho' one had lost his pipe. 

At length we reached the meeting grounds 

Beneath a shady wood, 
'And all the people that we met 

Were friendly, kind and good. 
And some were shouting, singing loud. 

Who had religion warm. 
As if determined to win the day 

And carry it by storm. 

The meetings then were 'bout to close, 

They had continued long, 
Both day and night for several weeks 

Had battled with the wrong. 
One woman there, while shouting big. 

Had lost her Sunday hat, 
And in her search she got a hug — 

Fell in a preacher's lap. 



60 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

One preacher preached excitedly, 

And free from any guile, 
And exultated laboriously, 

A putting on the style. 
He helped the people sing and shout, 

From mourners all around, 
'Twas glory hallelujah, 

Keligion had been found. 

At length we started home again, 

When preaching all was o'er, 
As if determined by what was said, 

To visit there some more. 
We passed a field and thro' some brush, 

And by an orchard too. 
And from the corner of a fence 

Some chicken feathers flew. 

It was a widow woman's field, 

The preachers there had stayed, 
That chicken was the last of all 

Because it shaq^ly strayed. 
It ran as if to save its life. 

Ran east and north and south. 
Flew o'er the fence as if determined 

To miss the preacher's mouth. 

It flopped its wings and flew and ran, 

As if to save its throat. 
And thus the words it seemed to say, 

"For God's sake kill a shoat." 
Tho' I should live a hundred years 

On life's bulldozing track, 
I'll ne'er forget my funny trip 

To Shawnee Mound and back. 



ALLEN DOllMAN'S POEMS. 

A LOYEK'S PKOFFER. 

A maiden, lovely nuiideii, 

Came tripping by the way, 
And fondly gave her proffer, 

While spring of life was gay. 
She brightened in the sunshine, 

And reddened like the rose, 
Which bade nie love my niaiden. 

And thus forget my woes. 

I could not then refuse hei", 

Yet will not call her nauje. 
But then to understand it, 

'Twas leap year all the same. 
Oh, she was tlien so lovely. 

So beautiful and fair, 
That I was proud of meeting 

My little lady there. 

Her face was young and lovel}'. 

Her ways were kind and true, 
Her heart was light and winning. 

Her thoughts were fresh and new. 
Her charms were fair and pn^tty. 

The sun was shining bright, 
And spring of youth was blooming 

In all its golden light. , 

'Twas thus she bid me welcome. 

While lovely youth was gay, 
For nature taught her lessons 

That youth must pass away. 
She tendered her affections 

Arrayed in love and truth, 
In all their golden glory. 

The ])leasure of her youth. 



62 AL-TEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

It was indeed doliglitful, 

And pleasing to the soul, 
A blessing of a life time 

Unuttered and untold. 
'Tis height of love's ambition, 

In public or alone, 
To meet and greet its idol 

And claim it as its own. 

She helped me pledge our promise, 

And bid me love her true, 
Until we grew up older 

And then our claims renew. 
Yes, meet and live forever. 

Whene'er that time shall come, 
Till death alone shall sever. 

And life on earth is done. 



A LOVERS REPLY. • 
Oh, maiden, lovely maiden, 

I bow at your request. 
For gladly will I meet you, 

And love you for the best. 
For lonely have I wandered, 

Thro' dreary days of gloom. 
And felt the chilly sorrows, 

That linger nigh the tomb. 

Yes, spring has turned to winter, 

And peace has found its grave, 
Ambition's hope has blasted. 

That lured the heart so brave j 
And life so dark and dreary, 

And bitter to relate 
Of wasted days and moments. 

When troubles were so great. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

I've wandered lone and weary, 

No one to linger nigh 
To keep the heart from aching, 

Or cheer it with a sigh. 
Oh, yes, I'll gladly meet thee. 

And thus secure a friend, 
To love and claim this bosom, 

Ou which it may depend. 

Yes, then shall life be sweeter, 

When other days shall come, 
Far in the distant future 

We'll know the good we've done. 
And then shall hopes be brighter. 

And lure us high above 
Life's dark and dreary shadows. 

To sliare each other's love. 

Oh, then I'll love my maiden. 

And sigh in her embrace, 
That these true warm affections 

May find a resting place. 
Then hope and love and honor, 

Shall cheer our wandering feet, 
And brighten up our pathway, 

And make our journey sweet. 

And birds shall gladly cheer us. 

And sing their happy lay. 
And flowers then shall blossom. 

We'll gather by the way; 
We'll share these sacred blessings. 

Till laid beneath the sod, 
And then in death we'll slumber. 

Prepared to meet our God. 



64 ALLEN DOKMAN S POEMS. 

ANGELS LEAD. 
Weary, weak and worn with troubles, 

Poor and humble here below, 
Seeking for a destination. 

Far bevond this vale of woe. 
Far from friends and dear cctnipanions, 

In a land where ])i]grims roam, 
While he sleeps to ease his journey, — 

Angels lead the wanderer home. 

He has lived a life of labor. 

Labored hard for you and me, 
He lias tried to serve his Master, 

For a Christian man was lie. 
He has spent his life for others. 

He has lived as life was prone, 
He has tried to do his duty, — 

Angels lead the wanderer home. 

He has lived a life of partings. 

Life of sorrow, grief and pain. 
He has served his God for blessings, 

And lias served him not in vain. 
Life at best has griefs and partings. 

Hearts were made to weep and mourn, 
Much of this has been his portion. — 

Angels lead the wanderer home. 

Weary, worn with cares and troubles, 

And with strangers far away — 
Stranger, yet lie was our brother. 

He was called and could not stay. 
God will know what pains he suffered 

How he labored and alone. 
But his labors now are over, — 

Angels lead the wanderer home. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. G5 

A :kotification. 

Once a maiden met her lover, 

With a hope to pleasures share, 
On her features young and pretty, 

All her eliarms were blooming fair; 
And her manners sweet and winning, 

With her kind and gentle ways, 
And her actions bent on wooing, 

Were beyond all artful praise. 

But the maiden turned complaining 

Of the wrongs she had received. 
And notified henceforth forever. 

She must from them be relieved. 
Yes, and notified her lover. 

Til at her heart was over run 
With a Hood of troubled notions. 

As she told what must be done. 

Sad when lovers get excited, 

And two loving hearts complain, 
May trouble thus a life of pleasure, 

Fi'cquent both may be to blame. 
As the lover heard his notice 

Frcun his maiden, pretty girl, 
Thus the soul may hear its warrant, 

In the far-ofi' spirit world. 

Oh, when death shall serve its summons, 

And we're laid beneath the sod, 
May we meet a friendly Savior, 

May we meet a friendly God ; 
Be our actions good or evil 

While we journey here below, 
We sliall.know in time of harvest. 

That we rea]) the seed we sow. 



66 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

AT JsOON IN MAY. 

New hopes had come and all was bright, 

With cheering proof with me, 
That nature teaches everywhere, 

That most good things are free. 
The day so bright, the sky so clear, 

The birds all singing gay, 
And all the cheering signs around 

Were proof that it was May. 

The sun that rose in splendor bright. 

The grasses fresh from dew. 
All taught the heart with free delight, 

That every thing was new. 
The hills so grand and trees so green, 

With spreading branches high. 
And harvest fields all growing nice, 

Was pleasing to the eye. 

New hopes had come and all was bright, 

With hope of future praise. 
And life was luring hastily on 

To meet its sunny days ; 
The flowers blooming all around. 

The brooklet running clear. 
And music of the many songs 

Filled troubled hearts with cheer. 

So, little girl, this lot is thine, 

The praises of thy youth 
May ever dwell within thy breast, 

Sweet liberties and truth. 
Then let us be in earnest now, 

And labor every day, 
And treasure good while all is bright, 

And work while it is May. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 67 

A MASHER'S MASH. 
A masher loved a maiden, 

And loved her pretty well, 
And just how much he loved her, 

He wished to somehow tell; 
He met his lovely maiden, 

While walking in the street, 
The sun was shining brightly 

Upon her graces sweet. 

He thus approached his maiden, 

To hear what she might say, 
And made himself acquainted, 

And in the proper way. 
He made his mash successful. 

As lovers often do, 
His stove-pipe hat was lifted. 

To bow to one so true. 

They walked along together, 

And thought that all was right, 
But soon they met her father, 

Who gave them such a fright j 
He was a sinful feller. 

To meet and spoil their fun ; 
Her father got so angry. 

The masher turned and run. 

Her father drew up stoutly 

And threw his walking cane, 
He missed the running masher, 

But scared him all the same. 
The masher now in silence, 

Coos like a lonelj' dove, 
And wonders if her father. 

Has ever thought ot love. 



68 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

AMBITION. 

'Tis hope that lures the heart within, 

'Tis time that makes us old, 
'Tis courage gives us needed strength, 

Ambition makes us bold. 
An;bitiou3 hearts are true to self, 

To fortune and to fame, 
They struggle for their eminence. 

And sometimes win the same. 

"Witli tliose who serve ambiti(m's cause 

May know ambition's dream, 
And know that life's realities 

Are seldom what they seem. 
Yes, they are those who know it best. 

And may its mysteries tell. 
Whose worthy age have reached its stage, 

And those who rose and fell. 

Yet life thro' all its vain pursuits. 

May prove but vain at best; 
We may achieve what life may give. 

Yet find no lasting rest. 
In all that's worthy, good and great. 

In worldly hope aiul fame, 
"Wo may not find what we pursue 

More solid than its name. 

Success may crown our earnest toil, 

And make life sweet to live, 
Y'et life at best can ne'er attain. 

What life can nevei' give; 
There is a longing in the heart 

Ambition cannot fill, 
And tho' we gain anibition's name 

Its vain ambition still. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 69 

A VISIT TO YOUTH'S SCHOOL 
KOOM. 

I visited my old school-room, 

There to recall once more 
Tlie scenes of the long gone by 

I'd cherished much of yore. 
And as I entered through the door, 

And thus beheld the room, 
I noticed there that things had changed, 

Through time's corroding gloom. 

I thought of days I'd wandered there, 

In happy days of yore, 
x\nd of the friends I there had met, 

As memory called them o'er; 
And as I tread across the floor, 

Where I could take a seat, 
I thought how often down those isles 

Had tread my wandering feet. 

But time has bore those rights away, 

My youth had known so well. 
Yet every tiujc I thought of them. 

My heart began to swell. 
Some friends were there 1 recognized, 

Some persons I had known. 
And kindly had remembered me 

Since older I had grown. 

While I was there they sang a song, 

The song was new to me, 
And as their teacher bade them sing. 

They all responded free; 
The song was new, and scholars too 

Were of another name. 
The teacher who instructed them 

Was also not the same. 



-70 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

Another teaclier taught the school, 

Was busy at his task, 
And tried to do his dnty right, 

And wise instruct his class. 
He was a friend of intellect, 

Of learning and of thought. 
And wise iiLstructions truly gave, 

In lessons that he taught. 

The scholars all recited well. 

They had improved their time. 
And all seemed eager to excel 

In knowledge for the mind. 
Once more in life I drank the cup, 

Of memories gone by, 
And felt tiiat time alone dispelled 

The scenes that once were nigh. 

I felt that time would not restore 

The pleasures I had known, 
And cherished thoughts of bright school 
days, 

I once could call niy om^i. 
Yes, life is changing all the time. 

And hearts are not the same, 
With mortal hearts there is no rank 

That knows no law of change. 

I hope that I may profit by 

My visit at the room, 
And thus review in what I may 

Fast scenes from memory's gloom. 
For as we wander on through life, 

'Tis sweet to study o'er 
The scenes of youth, and bright schooi 
days, 

And haj^py thoughts of yore. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S PO^iMS. 71 

ATTENTION DEMOCRATS. 

Now we would call attention 

Of all true democrats, 
That lepublicans are working 

And winning all the hats; 
Come get about your business, 

And keep the rads at bay, 
And show them that their party 

lias truly had its day. 

They tell us of our badness, 

And wave the bloody shirt, 
But show them at elections 

Their blabbings do not hurt. 
Don't scratch your ticket ever, 

But vote the ticket straight. 
And show the rads they never 

Can enter through their gate. 

The rads may get excited. 

And ofier you to tight. 
But don't you get excited. 

But do your voting right; 
Yes, hoist your red bandanna, 

And there beneath it vote, 
And tell the rads their colors 

Were never made to float. 

Don't let the rads deceive you, 

But tell them in your tears, 
That our batch of candidates, 

Are better cats than theirs. 
Yes, work and do your duty. 

In all you do and say, 
And show them that their doctrines, 

May look another way. 



72 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

The party, yes, the party, 

The grand old democrat, 
Is just the visavie, 

Of radical despotic, 
So turn out and be ready, 

To work and vote and stay, 
And share with us the glory, 

Of that election day. 



ALL THAT LIFE HAS BEEN. 

Oh, wliat is life 'mid toil and strife. 

Or what has life to give, 
Tliat man must toil within his coil. 

For mere the right to live; 
Is life so sweet and far complete, 

In all we do and say, 
That we could seek to idly sleep 

The better part away. 

Since early youth I've felt this truth. 

This life is notour own. 
And changing sighs and weeping eyes, 

Are not with one alone. 
The best of life is most of life, 

Its most that life has been. 
And much we see, may often be 

The coverings of sin. 

The dreams we dream may often seem, 

Like pleasures of our youth. 
And thoughts of praise, in many ways, 

May testify this truth ; 
Yet God is right in all his might. 

He rules the proper way, 
What life has been, be good or sin, 

Is life with us to stay. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 73 

A DAWN OF HOPE. 

Tills heart was sad, O, very sad, 

And grief had sorely pressed 
This weary bosom 'iieath its weight, 

Until it found no rest ; 
And darkness had dispelled the light, 

The light of glowii.ig noon, 
And death was staring in the heart, 

Where all around was gloom. 

My friends had turned and I was sad, 

And death seemed drawing nigh. 
The deatliofhope,of peace and praise, 

That dies when liearts must die* 
When all at once a sudden beam. 

Of golden hope so fair. 
Came with her light to heal the heart. 

And save from dying there. 



A MASHED DUDE. 
A mashed dude, a mashed dude, 

The essence of a dandy, 
May llirt around about the town, 

And feed tlie girls with candy. 
He's hungry, liungry, for a squeeze j 

He flirts and fizzles often, 
And has a nature of his own, 

A soakin' and a softin'. 

A mashed dude, a mashed dude, 

A sam])le of a somethin', 
"Who acts like he was in the fire, 

Wiien- smitten on a dumplin'. 
Bi'uins and latin clothed in satin. 

With few redeeming features, 
A fop and tool for ridicule, 

Yet one of earth's own creatures. 



T4 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

A NAP AT NOON. 

When the sun in suiiiuier time 

Doth let his sliiniiig down, 
He's sure to mind us tluit we are 

Between him and the ground. 
And tlien its nice to seek the shade, 

Or in some pleasant room, 
And if our business will permit. 

To take a nap at noon. 

Yes, it is nice to have nice things, 

And pleasant for the soul. 
To live a life of hapjnness, 

With friends that never scold. 
So let the world roll on and on. 

It sometimes is a boon, 
In summer days when worn with toil, 

To take a na]) at noon. 



A BIG GUN. 
A great man he imitates, 

A big gun, a big gun, 
And has look that penetrates 

A great one, a great one. 
He's great from great assumptions. 

He hates a negro dude, 
fie shoots his shells of greatness, 

Right in his neiirhborliood. 

He craves the credit of himself. 

Great credit he dosei-ves. 
And all his thoughts are great ones. 

He's loaded with reserve. 
He prospers best in flush times, 

And makes a better show, 
His ancestors were great ones, 

And he is great, you know. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. ri 

A GOOD MAN. 

A good man and an honest man, 

Who labors for tlie right, 
Is pride of God's own handiwork, 

His glory and delight. 
Yes, he whose heart is ever true. 

And labors for the best, 
And bears the truth upon Ids lips, 

As every word a test. 

A good man, yes, a worthy man. 

The noblest woik of God, 
Was made of earth's best properties, 

To rule and bear the rod j 
The man whose heart is ever right, 

And useful in his way. 
And lives to serve humanity, 

And help it while he may. 

A good man, yes, a useful man, 

A man of worthy deeds, 
A man who knows life's trying woes, 

And satisfies its needs. 
The heart that cares for sorrow's pain. 

And knows its bitter cup, 
And helps his neighbors in their needs. 

And lifts the fallen up. 

A good man, yes, a trusty man. 

With money that he counts. 
And fills your measure rightly full, 

And credits every ounce. 
A good man, yes, an honest man, 

A worthy man indeed, 
A happy man. a useful man, 

A trusty man in netd. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

ALONE TO-NIGIIT. 

All alone, alone toi>;ether, 

All alone this solemn night, 
Hoping, trusting for each otiier, 

Pi'onipted by the tlioughts of right. 
Time is li)st wlicn time is wasted, 

Hopes are gone when hopes have fled, 
Life is sweet when life has tasted 

Of the things it seeks to wed. 

Time and chance are but a river. 

Moving us its silent way, 
Through the dreads that make us shiver. 

What is movini>- ciinnot stay ; 
Solemn, solemn, silent throbbing 

Down and deep within the heai't 
Yes, it is the question p<>l>ping, 

All it needs is but a start. 



ALL WHO TUY. 

All who try, and all who favor 

Blessings for the weak and sad, 
May be honored and respected, 

liy the fainting hearts niatlo glad. 
They who try to do their duty. 

As a ]ileasure day by day. 
May receive their share of kindness, 

In some unexpected way. 

Friends will claim you and be grateful, 

For the favors you may give. 
And may feel 'tis then you need them. 

And for more than self you live. 
If you pass their little blunders. 

And be mindful of their good, 
They will know you for your merit, 

And be grateful, as they should. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 77 

A BETTER LIFE. 

All that life has ever been, 

Through dreary days gone by, 
Should prompt the heart to better live, 

And help it then to try. 
The precious time that has been spent 

In heedlessness and grief. 
Has served procrastination best. 

For it has been the thief. 

Why should our precious time be spent 

In serving sin and woe, 
And feel that such could be our heip, 

When such will be our foe. 
The heart that dares to follow sin 

And from it seek reward. 
May oft deceive his neighborman, 

But ne'er deceive his Lord. 

Then make to-day a new resolve, 

And help the heart begin, 
And pledge the heart, to rightly start 

A nobler life within. 
Yes, try to live a better life. 

And be a better man, 
And try to make our habits right 

In every way we can. 

We reap, we know the seed we sow. 

In all we do and say. 
And time's the field that brings theyield. 

The harvest and the pay. 
So let us make a new resolve. 

And hold it as our theme. 
That we may see that it shall be 

More than an idle dream. 



78 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

AT EARLY MORN. 

How bright the morn is dawning, 

And opening into .daj, 
And melting thoughts of sadness, 

And driving them away. 
It is indeed delightful, 

To see the rising sun 
Shed forth his rays of gladness 

Around for every one. 

We feel it is a blessing 

The sun alone can give, 
That we so much enjoy, 

So frequent while we live. 
And as our sun that rises 

And opens into morn. 
The sun of life eternal 

Will likewise truly dawn. 



A BOSS MASH. 
You see I've made a boss mash, 

I've charmed a heavy maid, 
I've got her now to love me so. 

This heart is not afraid. 
Oh, she is solid all the while, 

No danger getting left, 
She's girl enough for ten men. 

Yet got her all myself. 

Oh, it was nice how she was charmed, 

It was a heavy mash, 
We got in her society. 

And into her love-hash ; 
We popped the question right to her. 

And free from any sham, 
But then she popped that she must go, 

And pop and see her mam. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS, T9 

A NEW RESOLVE. 
I'll make to-day a new resolve 

And keep it if I can, 
And try to live a nobler life, 

And be a better man. 
Yes, I will live a truer life, 

More prompt in what I do, 
That God the king of providence 

May guide and help me tlirough. 

I will arise at early morn, 

And labor thro' the day, 
And choose the good and shun the wrong 

That happens on my way. 
Yes, I will work for what is right, 

And live for what is dear. 
That events of futurity 

May brighter then appear. 

Yes, I will be a better man. 

And work for what is good, 
And strengthen this my new resolve, 

And labor as I should. 
Tho' clouds may gather o'er my way. 

And hide the shining sun, 
Yet I will let the evening show 

Some good that I have done. 

I'll try to seek prosperity. 

And with a purpose true, 
I'll treasure for posterity 

Some good that I may do. 
I know the heart is sometimes weak. 

And often fears to stand. 
Yet I will keep my new resolve 

And be a better man. 



80 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

A LOA'ER-S COMPLAINT. 

On a Lriglit and sunnj evening, 

"When few clouds were in the skj, 
A h)vei' sat nigh his window, 

Watching wiio were passing by. 
Birds were singing in tlje court-yard, 

As he faced a southern breeze. 
All the air was filled witli gladness, 

Zephyrs whistled thro' the trees. 

Fixed his chair just right to suit him. 

As it stood upon its pegs, 
Tho' it creaked a little somewhat 

As he crossed his mighty legs. 
Who could fancy his condition, 

Or his style of taking rest, 
Or how he sat while thoughtless smoking 

In his way at '"Tliume's best." 

Oh, then dreams of blissful pleasures 

Flashed upon his gallant njind, 
Thinking of life's golden harvest 

And the sheaves that he could bind. 
Thought it nice to be with maidens 

And their sweetest pleasures share, 
And to rank his name with heroes, 

And the cost to put it there. 

IJe thought he had best accomplish 

Something good and not corrupt, 
F(ir fear he might get afflicted 

And the doctors give him up. 
In the midst of all his dreaming, 

Noticed in the street below 
Another man with his maiden — 

Changed his pleasures into woe. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. K 

He looked again, as if astounded, 

Bnd to satisfy his mind, 
It was true as sifted gospel 

That his claims were left behind. 
'Twas too much, he could not stand it. 

As he thought his troubles o'er — 
Should they think to pop the question, 

He would see his girl no more. 

Said his heart was torn to pieces. 

And his back was sore with pains, 
But he'd kill that awful rascal — 

Shoot him center thro' the brains. 
Where's that ruler, with a darn it. 

As he stood up in his chair 
And said, '••all married men and women 

Would believe it was not fair." 

Others round him got excited. 

But they did not dare to run, 
But thought when he got out the market, 

Then the happy days would come. 
Yes, he gathered up his pistol 

As he started for the door, 
And said, ''that he'd kill his rival — 

Should have killed him long ago." 

As ho stumbled down the stairway. 

Thinking only what to do, 
Muttered out, •' ho could get married, 

Face a loaded cannon too." 
Yes, he reached the sujipcr table. 

Looking hungry, pale and gaunt. 
Said, "he had not been to Fulton, 

Neither had he boomed f.)r Grai;t." 



W ALLEN DOUMANS POEMS, 

Suuii his friends prepared his chamber, 

And they put him oft' to bed, 
And the hired girl cavorted ' 

As she kissed him on the head. 
Poor feller soon was wrapped in slumbers, 

Whipporwills began to sing, 
And the maidens talked about him 

As a great "bonanza king." 

In his dreams the angels whispered, 

Something that he thought was true, 
"When lovers set their heads to marry. 

They have nothing else to do." 
All this cause of grief and sorrow. 

Causing trouble, pain and loss. 
Is a secret, shall we tell it? 

Yes, cupid charmed a wheel-hoss. 



AN HONEST MAN. 
An honest man, an honest man, 

Once in the world did live, 
His nature was to do the right 

And all his words fulfil. 
Now he w-as honest thro^ and thro'. 

He would not cheat or steal, 
And always honest in his trades 

With those he had to deal. 

But now this man went out one day, 

And fell into the creek. 
And sadly drowned his good self, 

And never more did speak. 
He left no wife of his good traits, 

No kindred of his kind. 
And left no children in the world 

To honor his good name. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 83 

ALLEN DOKMAN. 

Allen Dorman, who writes this book, 

Has had to try indeed, 
And had to march tiiro' storm and strife, 

And mourn in times of need. 
Yes, he has snfiered pain and loss, 

And hardships from the start. 
And known the trying woes of life 

That almost crush the heart. 

His kindred hath deserted him. 

In peril all alone. 
And friends hath left in times of need, 

Discouraged and disowned. 
His efforts hatli been criticised, 

He's had to toil and try, 
Thro' many a midnight battle strife, 

When no one else was nigh. 

His enemies hath envied him. 

With censure and with blame, 
And dragged him in the court-room mad 

To let him speak and gain. 
His birthplace was a cabin small. 

Built rudely on the ground ; 
His cradle was a bee-hive half. 

Hewn from a bee-tree round. 

Yet all thro' life's turmoil and strife, 

Hath shone a constant sun, 
With God and mother as his friends 

He sought to overcome. 
His heart it has been truer made, 

His songs are sweeter too. 
From what were blessings in disguise 

That God has helped him through. 



83 ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 

A DAY OF DEEDS. 
The morning dawned, tlie sun rose bright, 

And birds sang happy lays, 
Tho' nature's God had thus prepared 

A day of hope and praise. 
And as time passed, the day was spent 

In doing friendly deeds, 
And helping others all we could 

About their pressing needs. 

That day of deeds has truly taught 

To work in many ways, 
For well with me that day is wortli 

A hundred other days. 
I love to think about that day. 

When troubled hearts went free, 
May stand a cherished monument 

For all eternity. 

One deed designed another deed, 

And bore its own reward, 
It was a day for memories 

Devoted to the Lord. 
That day of deeds I'll cherish long, 

Those acts of precious seeds — 
Oh, who would dare to imitate 

And live a life of deeds. 



AN EPITAPH. 
Here lies a friend beneath the sod, 

He sought the paths of peace, 
The path that leadeth up to God 

Where blessings never cease. 
May angels guide him in his llight 

From earthly things behind. 
And reach in safety with delight 

The peaceful shores of time. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 85 

BOYS. 

Come i)()\v, boys, don't be i-eckless, 

You, like men, have work to do, 
And may make your lives successful 

If you prove to business true. 
You may go to shows and dances, 

And may think them wise and funny, 
But don't ]Kiy too much for pleasures, 

First consider, save you money. 

Life is not a dream of pleasure. 

Life is prone to ups and downs. 
And your dimes accumulated 

Soon may treasure into pounds. 
You should proper act with wisdom. 

As you travel on life's journey, 
You are sowing for a reajiing 

While you handle tinie and money. 

You may have your wishes furnished. 

May not need your cash to-day, 
But may form a useless habit 

That your future life must pay. 
Then be watchful and bo saving 

While your days arc bright and sunny, 
For to-morrow may bring trouble, 

And may need life's wasted money. 

You may seek for friends and playmates. 

Other hearts may do the same, 
But if early life be wasted, 

You will harvest grief and shame. 
You may go with pretty maidens, 

And may think them sweet as honey. 
But remember, boys, remember, 

How you spend your time and money. 



86 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

BEAUTIFUL AND FAIR. 

She was fair and she was lovely, 

She was pretty as could be, 
She has taught this heart to love her, 

Aud her love was all for me. 
She was winning, she was gentle, 

Life with her was sweet to live. 
Love had filled her heart with pleasure, 

And she had sweet love to give. 

Oh, yes, maiden, lovely maiden, 

She had sacred love to share. 
And this heart has long been cheerful, 

Thinking of her beauties fair. 
Life was sweeter, life was better. 

It has long been so with me, 
And if love has been her portion, 

Life with both has prospered free. 

There was love within her bosom. 

There was praise within her care, 
Deeds of love and deeds of kindness, 

Flourished with her beauties fair. 
With a heart to love and labor, 

With a purpose e'er in view. 
Life has cherished love and duty. 

And the thoughts of living true. 

Maiden gentle, she was lovely. 

Blooming in her youth so fair, 
Blooming for a noble purpose. 

With the love she had to share. 
Thus we all should be in earnest. 

Making most of life we may, 
Hopes and pleasures soon may fail us. 

Deeds of merit truly stay. 



LLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 87 

BUILT UP AT HOME. 

Talk of great and self-made men, 

Who by their efforts won 
Their fortunes and their eminence, 

To show what they have done. 
It is true with business men, 

Who long have stood alone, 
And faced life's adversities, 

And built right up at home. 

They have toiled 'mid heavy cares^ 

In search of fortune's gain, 
And have stood it patiently, 

Thro' sufferings .and pain. 
They have labored day by day 

For treasures now their own, 
And worked thro' the harvest time. 

And built right up at home. 

See our nation's greatest men, 

The men of wealth and fame, 
See how truly they have toiled 

For what they have obtained. 
Go to history's worthy men. 

And men of ancient Rome, 
And see how they truly worked 

To build right up at home. 

Labor is a creditor. 

That pays up every bill. 
And helps on triumphantly, 

O'er every steep and hill. 
He who labors earnestly, 

His work may thus atone. 
And give him strength honestly, 

To build right up at home. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

Men who woik and men who try, 

And hibor long and true, 
May surmount adversities 

And ti'iumpli safely thro'. 
He wlio seeks his fortune far 

Where pilgrims fear to roam. 
And built his treasures with his God, 

Has built tliem first at home. 

So let's work each day and hour, 

Till other days shall cotne, 
And ever labor on and on 

Until life's woi-k is done. 
xis all the good we may do 

With what we call our own, 
Slituild be like gifts of charity 

And first begin at home. 



BLASTED HOPES. 

With buried life and blasted hopes 

I live and linger on, 
I have no object now in view, 

My hopes ai'c sadly gone. 
I look not for a future bright, 

I fi'cl that life is vain, 
For all the object of my time 

Is but to ease my pain. 

I spend my time in trying now 

To find my heart relief, 
I'd give my time and labors now 

To free my heart from grief. 
My hopes are blasted in my breast. 

My hopes are now no more, 
But yet they say that second love 

Is better than before. 



ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 

BEAUTY. 

Beauty, beauty, charming beauty, 

Making every heart so glad, 
Is a screen that hides the ugly 

Tho' it naay be good or bad. 
Beauty charms and beauty praises. 

Beauty hides the art of sin, 
With the shroud of its discretion, 

Fastens what it gets within. 

Beauty serves a noble purpose, 

God is beauty and divine. 
And we all should claim it ever. 

Let our deeds with beauty shine. 
Beauty sweet is fascinating. 

Fancied colors light and gay 
Charms the heart till it is blinded, 

As he's rich who feels that way. 



BETRAYED. 
I told a girl I wanted her 

To marry me right soon. 
That I was almost old enough 

To have some honeymoon. 
She said she would, O yes, she would, 

Was ready for the tie, 
But when I once' considered it, 

First thought it was a lie. 

So I began to build my hopes, 

Upon her heart and hand, 
But she began to build her hopes 

Upon another man. 
She flopped with him, she hitched with him, 

And split the cross with me — 
I was betrayed, I was betrayed, 

I was betrayed you see. 



eO ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

BATTLES NEEDED. 

There's battles needed in the lieart, 

If it would merit gain, 
And battles won by doing good 

May compensate the pain. 
The heart must battle in the breast 

If it would battles win, 
And not to battle for the right 

Is but to live for sin. 

This world is but a battle-iield, 

Where heaits may win or lose, 
And heaits that battle for the right 

May win most what they choose. 
The heart hath need of victories, 

And if it fails to fight, 
May sink in its dependence 

And lose its burning light. 



BROKEN HEARTS. 
There are broken hearts around us, 

Ladened with their loads of care, 
And their heavy weights of sorrow 

Seemeth greater than their share. 
But they struggle in their peril. 

In their pain and in their grief, 
Hoping that some hand of kindness 

May assist them with relief. 

Yes, we see them all around us. 

How they mourn and how they live- 
01), how much they need our kindness, 

Which alone our hearts may give. 
Then how cruel to be S])aring 

With the kindness others need, 
Or neglect them in their troubles — 

Broken hearts that mourn and bleed. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 91 

BAIRD COLLEGE. 

How grand Baird College proudly stands, 

A nioi-unient of worth, 
A hope built up within our midst 

Of more than crumbling earth. 
A real hope which cannot die. 

While blessings it may give, 
And wisely teach immortal souls 

That are destined to live. 

The seeds of good that it may yield 

And scatter far away. 
And spread its light o'er barren fields, 

And make their darkness day. 
Its come to stay and stand secure. 

And yield its fruits of good 
lor other hearts in other years, 

And flourish as it should. 

Beard College, yes, the pride of home, 

Our liearts hath need to be. 
An institution in our midst 

Of hope and liberty. 
Long may it stand a source of worth. 

And may its foutiders live 
And wisely reap with other hearts 

The good the) 'vc sought to give. 

Bear up, bear on, thou sacred hope, 

'Tis worthy to be true. 
And freely do for other liearts 

The good things done for you. 
Of all the mines of treasured worth 

The Lord hath need to bless. 
Of school or learning thou art peer, 

The vassar of the west. 



92 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

BURIED THOUGHTS. 

youth it dreamt of golden future, 

Bright and rosy in its form, 
As the sun shone on it gladly. 

With its rays so free and warm. 
Youth it thought about the future 

As in age it older grew, 
But life's cares soon over-shadowed 

Much it sought and loved so true. 

Time came on and thoughts were buried 

Far beneath the load of care, 
Duty sought them at her leisure, 

And the dream once bright and fair. 
Life was real in its purpose, 

Brilliant and its prospects free, 
But around was not so sunny 

As in youth it seemed would be. 



BRIGHT DAYS. 

I often think of bright, bright days, 

When cherished youth was free. 
And meditate of good times past. 

That once were dear to me. 
Tiie bright days of my early youth, 

Those sunny days so bright 
Are cherished yet in memory 

With pleasure and delight. 

Those cherished days, those sunny days, 

Those golden days of youth,' 
Are monuments in memory 

Of real life and truth. 
So let our hearts be mindful still 

Of coming, sunny days, 
And treasure up for future life 

Some worthy deed of praise. 



ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 91 

BEAUTIFY YOUR HOMES. 

You men of worth, you men of means, 

You men of taste and thought, 
Come beautify your own dear homes, 

And tix them as you ought. 
It is your right and privilege, 

And is your duty, too, 
To ornament your neighborhood 

With all tliat's good and true. 

Yes, iix your homes and fix your farms 

With beauty and repairs, 
'Twill lighten up in many ways 

Your heavy weight of cares. 
Your neighbors then will study you 

For what they may detect. 
As hearts who honor self and home 

Are worthy of respect. 

Yes, be a man in what you may, 

A neighbor and a friend, 
A stay within your neighborhood 

On which it may depend. 
Yes, ])aint your homes and fix thcni up, 

And is no crime or sin 
To let your neighbors imitate 

The happiness within. 

The trees you plant around the field 

Are ornaments indeed, 
And never know the good you sow 

Until you reap the seed. 
The weary traveler on his way. 

Beneath them takes liis rest. 
And feels that you as well as ho 

Are likewise truly blest. 



91 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

And as he turns to tuke his leave, 

Would honor if he could 
The hand that planted yonder tree, 

God bless him, he is good. 
However worn, however sad, 

In trouble or in strife, 
He puts you down in memory 

A station in his life. 

Your neighbors watch, then letthem watch, 

They watch most everything — 
The njaple for tlie mocking bird. 

The dipper at the spring. 
They watch your motives and intent. 

Your purpose and design, 
And give you credit if they think 

The heai't within is kind. 

Then beautify your saci-ed homes, 

And beautify the mind, 
'Tis beauty gives them ornament, 

For beauty is divine. 
And beautify your characters 

In all you say and do, 
And gladly sow for other hearts, 

What others have for you. 



BETTEK DAYS. 

I met a friend, an old school-mate, 

Who had been rich and ga}', 
But he had lost his worldly goods" — 

Had spent them all aM^aj. 
He turned to me his once proud heart, 

And spoke of better days, 
And vanities of fashion's God 

He worshiped once with praise. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. y5 

BLOOMING FOK THE TOMB. 

Yes, uU our hopes thro' transient life, 

Aud all of nature's bloom, 
And all life's features fair and bright 

Are blooming for the tomb. 
And all our friends we love to praise, 

Physioonomy of the face. 
And all life's bright and sunny days 

Must pass without a trace. 

Yes, blooming, blooming, O how sad, 

All flowers' features gay, 
All nature striving to be glad, 

Y^et doonied to pass awa3^ 
No visage of life's feeble tread, 

No warning of its doom. 
Unmindful of its kindred dead 

While blooming for the tomb. 



BKIGHT ETERNITY. 

Bounding hope is never sterile. 

When the heart can truly see, 
And behold in dreaming future 

Scenes in bright eternity. 
Scenes that sedate life appraises 

For their beauty and their worth. 
Floating thro' the skies of glory. 

High above the scenes of earth. 

Bright and lovely, high elated, 

All the forms that enter there. 
Where the loved and sainted gather 

In a world so bright and fair. 
Bright, immortal and eternal, 

Fh)ws the crystal fountain free, 
And the angels live forever 

In the bright eternity. 



96 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

CAMPBELLITE. 

The Cliristia:i Church or Campbellite, 

Perhaps are all the same, 
And if 'tis true, the Christian Church 

Has just a surplus name. 
The Baptist folks that name should have. 

The so-called Campbellite, 
To ornament their doctrines with 

And make them nearer right. 

Sectarian creeds of sprinkling faith 

May need some Campbell heads, 
To put baptism in their creeds, 

Who sprinkle in its stead. 
Their sprinkling faith is good with them, 

Baptism good with all, 
Its like pure gold, 'twill always pass, 

In every creed and call. 

To say the least, its chafty faith 

That leaves the mind in doubt, 
And may not find the holy ghost, 

Unless they weep it out. 
In grief or joy our hearts re-act, 

'Tis with our nature true, 
For every sigh a joy may come. 

The holy ghost with you. 

Then claim the church Christ built on earth, 

And worship him alone. 
He is the life, the light, the way, 

The Church and corner stone ; 
But then with names we'll compromise. 

And trade a little too. 
If you will help us up to God, 

We'll help the same with you. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 97 

COUETING DAYS. 

How sweet the cherished thoughts of life, 

"When life is love and praise, 
And hopes revive our energies, 

In times of courting days. 
When love is all this world to us. 

And life is sweet to live, 
And praise is found in other hearts. 

And they have praise to give. 

Oh, courting days, yes, courting days. 

When lovers' hearts are true. 
And love with love is loveliness. 

In all we say and do. 
Yes, when they meet in social sweet. 

As angels may above. 
And gladly praise each other's ways, 

And live in cherished love. 

Oh, courting days, sweet courting days 

May come but once in life. 
When woman seeks a husband, 

And he like seeks a wife; 
Love is a blessing while we live, 

A blessing for the soul, 
A blessing of a life-time. 

That never becomes old. 

Oh, it is sweet to gladly live 

A life of song and praise. 
And feel the heart may cherish long 

The thoughts of courting days ; 
Sweet courting days of hopes and fears, 

They come and go so fast, 
And have their share of grief and care. 

And soon are sadly past. 



98 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

The heart grows weary, worn and weak, 

And sad of loviiig long, 
Yet O, life has its bitter grief, 

When courting days go wrong. 
Love has its changes year by year, 

Thro' all its trying ways. 
When slighted hearts may seek to roam, 

Or end their courting days. 



COLLEGE GIRLS. 

We welcome thee, thou fair ones, 

We welcome, welcome thee. 
And hope that thou may prosper 

With us in unity. 
We welcome thee, thrice welcome, 

With words wo cannot say, 
Within our social circle 

We welcome you to stay. 

May God be with you ever. 

And help you in your gain, 
The good you've come to gather 

From fields of golden grain. 
You've come and are among us, 

You've come with all your praise. 
The sunlight of your presence 

Are hopes for other days. 

You've come and you are welcome, 

Your presence is our gain, 
The pleasures that you bring us, 

We'll favor you the same. 
Thy labors are examples, 

We love and truly need, 
That we may likewise treasure. 

For every thought and deed. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 99 

CHEEISHED HOPES. 

Life is blest when hopes are cherished, 

And we labor gladly on, 
Wlien the heart is filled with pleasure, 

Seeking for a harvest moi'n. 
Yes, we labor on in earnest, 

And we labor with delight, 
Serving duty as a pleasure, 

In the sunny paths of right. 

Cherished hopes are cherished blessings, 

Ever making life so gay, 
With the present or the future, 

'Mid the darkness or the da}'. 
Cherished hopes are clothed in pleasure, 

Wlien we labor as we should. 
Not in sorrow or in vengeance. 

But in hopes that do us good. 



CONTENIMENT. 

Oh, contentment be my stay, 

Be my portion day by day. 
In my work and in my song, 

Cheer me sweetly on and on. 
In the darkness, in the light. 

Keep me ever in the right, 
Let me know that life is spent, 

All happy in contentment. 

Contentment, a precious theme, 

Hope of it the sweetest dream. 
Hearts without it are indeed 

In want of life's highest need j 
Life is wanting in its sphere. 

Without contentment and cheer, 
'Tis God alone that knows it best, 

Shares contentment with the blest. 



100 ALLEN DOnMAN'S POEMS. 

CHARLES WESLEY. 
Great men who by deeds of greatness 

Wrought their deeds in life to stay, 
High above life's rolling billows. 

Never to be w^orn away. 
High above the shoals and breakers, 

High above their slashing beat, 
Higli above the storms and changes, 

High above the i-estless deep. 

Tlius will live the deeds of Wesley, 

High within the hearts of men, 
Deeds that show how true he labored 

With his heart and with his pen. 
In his songs he sang of heaven 

And its blessings for tiie soul, 
In his prayers, he cared for others 

As the shepherd for the fold. 



CHARLES DICKEKS. 

Great men, good men, high in stations 

On which merit may depend. 
By their labors and their actions, 

Rule and sway the hearts of men. 
Yes, they labor in their greatness, 

In their eminence and fame. 
And tiieir worthy deeds are photo'ed 

Down in history to remain. 

Thus it was with Mr. Dickens, 

See his name a shining light, 
And we love to tell the story, 

How he labored for the right; 
How he prompted nobler actions 

In the hearts of men to try. 
And to know him by his labors, 

While the years of ages Hy. 



AtiiEN DORMAN'S tOEMS. M 

CHEERFUL AND TRUE. 

When maiden is so cheerful, 

So beautiful and fair, 
This iieart in times of leisure, 

Would steal its presence there. 
Wlien she is gay and lovel}-. 

And free as morning song, 
tier pi'aises for this bosom 

Would cheer it sweetly on. 

Oh. yes I love my maiden, 

I U)ve her gentle ]iraise, 
It cheers this heart with pleasure 

Thro' bright and sunny days. 
Yes, life will be successful, 

With more than one alone, 
With those who love tlieir maidens. 

And chiim them as their own. 

I know the charms of maidens 

Are beautiful with me. 
They kindle in my bosom 

The thoughts that it is free. 
I'll try to cheer my niaiden 

The best that I can do. 
And when she tries to cheer me, 

I'll show that I am true. 

This life will be a burden 

With him who loathes the truth. 
And knows not love or beauty. 

While blooming in its youth j 
He loses half the blessings 

Which God hath given men, 
Who fails to love his maiden 

As confidant and friend. 



102 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

So let US cheer our maidens. 

And love tlieni faithful too, 
While life is young and cheerful, 

And while we may be true. 
Yes, work and do our duty, 

And love them every day, 
That life may be delightful 

Till life is called away. 



DEWDROPS. 

When morn is gladly dawning. 

And all around is new, 
May 'waken thoughts of pleasure 

'Mid sparklings of the dew. 
When birds are gaily singing, 

And spring-time is for all, 
When forest leaves are ringing 

From dewdrops as they fall. 

The soul is filled with pleasure. 

When sports of spring abound, 
And roses show their colors, 
'Their fraij-rance all around* 
Tho' hearts may droop in sadness, 

And seek to rue from all, 
Yet lite may lure in gladness 
'When gentle dewdrops fall. 

Oh, soon our cherished features, 

And all that's bright and gay. 
And loving hearts around us 

Like dewdrops pass away. 
That changing law is calling. 

We hear its death-knell sound. 
That hearts like dewdrops falling. 

Are buried in the ground. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 103 

DAYS OF YOKE. 

'Tis sweet to think of pleasures 

Our childhood loved so well, 
They are the recollections, 

We oft delight to tell; 
Oh, yes, those early praises, 

We love them o'er and o'er • 
The praises that we cherished 

In happy days of yore. 

The stream of time still rushes, 

And bears us hast'Iy on, 
From pleasure^ ever sacred. 

Till they are sadly gone. 
In vain we seek for others 

Upon the sunny shore, 
But life is hast'Iy moving 

From what wc loved of yore. 

So, let our hearts be watchful, 

While sailing for the sea, 
Upon the tide that empties 

Into eternity. 
Oh, then shall life be gladdened, 

When earthly work is o'er, 
To know it loved and labored 

In sunny days of yore. 



ASPIRATION. 

'Tis desire in the soul. 
To encounter fate. 

E'er aspiring for the goal 
And be counted great. 



104 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

DO NOT LEAVE. 

Di) not kave nie, vvortby pilgrim, 

Do not, do not leave to-day, 
I have lieai'd that you are going, 

Truly would I have you stay. 
I have heai'd you have been faithful, 

And the kind words spoke of me, 
In return, my dearest wishes 

Are as truly all for thee. 

Do not leave me sad and lonely, 

Let me know thy heart is true. 
Tell me that you will remember 

One, whose need is most for you ; 
If you leave me you must promise. 

As you go far, far away. 
That you'll think of me and often, 

And our parting here to-day. 

Do not leave me are my wishes. 

Do not leave me all alone, 
For this heart is nigh to broken, 

In the loss of thee its own. 
I will miss thy presence sadly. 

Such will rend my bosom sore, 
Pray then let us know each other 

As we have in days of yore. 

Good-bye, good-bye, one so worthy 

We will hope to meet again, 
For these partings are but earthly. 

With the ties of transient friends j 
Soon these partings will be ended 

And these heartaches will be o'er. 
When we truly meet forever 

Where sad jiartings are no more. 



ALLEN DOKM-^N'S POEMS. 105 

DO ANGELS KNOW. 
Do angels know my earthly tlioiiglits? 

The flesh with all its sin 'i 
Do angels see my angry lieait, 

When all is dark within'^ 
Do angels watch wheie 1 may be? 

"Wherever I may go ? 
And when I sigh in solitude, 

Oil, do the angels know 'i 

Do spirits hear my humble prayers ? 

Do spirits hear me sing? 
Do spirits know when I am blest? 

Do they my blessings bring? 
Do spirits watch me in my walk ? 

And guide me Mhere I go ? 
And cheer me wlien I sorrow most? 

In 1 roubles and in woe? 

Do angels know my secret thoughts? 

Do angels search my heart? 
Oh, are they ever at my side? 

Or come, and then depart? 
Do angels watch me when 1 sleep? 

And gather round my bed? 
Are angels with me in my dreams? 

The suirits of the dead? 

Do angels see us now on earth? 

The tViends we use to love ? 
Oh, do they see where flesli cannot? 

Or do they dwell above? 
It is a theme we cannot tell 

Or buy with golden wealth 
Or learn from any earthly source, 

The mysteries of death. 



1C6 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

deserted' loye. 

We had loved and we had parted, 

We had canceled love's adore, 
But we'd loved each other fondly 

In the early days of yore ; 
She was fair and she was friendly, 

She was lovely as could be, 
But she'd traveled since I knew her 

And deserted claims with me. 

Many joys were forgotten. 

Many days had passed us by, 
But the good times of our childhood 

Ever seemed to linger nigh. 
She was at a fountain drinking, 

As I saw her turn aside, 
It was her I had remembered. 

Cherished love had conquered pride. 

There it was we had our meeting. 

There we talked of days gone by, 
There we spoke of friends departed. 

Youth had cherished fondly nigh; 
There deserted love was kindled. 

As we talked of childhood's praise, 
Talked until our hearts were saddened. 

By the thoughts of love's bright days. 

Thus how true with life its journey, 

When we think our efforts vain, 
And with friends we've most forgotten. 

As we sometimes meet again. 
Deserted love from idle causes. 

May return to us once more, 
And may kindle hope within us, 

And be better than before. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 107 

DO MAIDENS TELL. 
"We wonder now if maidens tell 

The secrets that they knoM', 
/Vnd have associates believe 

The news that's on the go. 
We wonder if they go and tell 

The things their conscience let, 
And oflfer then to nrjake excuse, 

And say they do forget. 

Yes, when we have their confidence, 

And tell them secrets true, 
"We wonder if they go and tell 

What they should never do. 
Yes, do they let our secrets out. 

With impudence and craft, 
Oh, do they break our confidence? 

Then do they go and laugh ? 

Yes, when we love them all we can. 

And tell them secrets deep. 
We wonder if they go and tell 

What they should strictly keep. 
Now do they talk to other boys'^ 

And break our confidence? 
And tell our secrets all away? 

And grin as recompense? 

Now,we have thought they sometimes do 

And think it pretty well, 
That what the men say, much is false. 

And that the maidens tell. 
Oh, yes, we think it pretty sure, 

Nor do we hardly doubt. 
That what is resting in their hearts, 

May thoughtlessly creep out. 



108 ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 

DON'T BREAK THE HEART. 

Don't break the heart that loves thee, 

But love him all you can, 
Don't slight his claims that he may be 

A true and happy man. 
Oh, it is true he loves you nov^^, 

Don't break his fainting heart. 
Don't give his hopes a heedless glance, 

Or bid them to depart. 

He's been a soldier in his life, 

And served his country's cause, 
And like a soldier bravely fought. 

To re-instate its laws. 
He's faced the scenes of battle's strife, 

A soldier true and tried, 
He's now a soldier for thy love, 

He don't pretend to hide. 

Don't be so cruel maiden, then, 

But love him o'er and o'er, 
Go cleanse thy heart its little guilt, 

And love him all the more. 
Don't break his heart, O maiden fair, 

Or wound his heart with pain, 
His heart would yield no compromise, 

He thinks your heart is vain. 

We know that youth has much to learn, 

And life has much to bear, 
And hearts may rue this mortal coil. 

Beneath some weight or care. 
So let us try and faithful be, 

And break no lover's heart. 
Death may be sweet compared with such, 

For such has been my part. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 109 

DEATH'S PHANTOMS. 
What is death? That mighty monster 

Stirs my senses thro' and thro', 
Stings my nerves, thrills my conscience, 

As I startle what to do. 
Fangs that tear the heart asunder, 

Terrors of a felon's doom. 
Ghostly sights of wild destruction, 

Horrors of an endless gloom. 

Death, the ghost of foulest murder, 

Makes me chill and tremble so, 
Frightful, angry, cruel monster. 

Help, O, save me from his blow. 
Legion from the foulest region. 

Clad in armor as he comes, 
Spearing wrath in every bosom. 

For th-e sins that it has done. 

Oh, is death so great a 'venger. 

Are his phantoms dark and cold? 
Does he dwell in loathsome riots. 

Bringing terror to the soul? 
Does he search this guilty conscience? 

Does he bring the heart decay? 
Does he solve this mortal coil 

As he tears the soul away? 

No, O no, death is not angry, 

For thro' him we may be blest, 
The pilgrim's friend he bears us over, 

To the shores of peaceful rest. 
Safe in him we sweetly slumber. 

In repose we lose our breath. 
This is all when all is over, 

For they tell us tliis is death. 



JlOn ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 

DARKEY IN THE COLD^ 

This ole darkey am a freezin', 

Fur hez gettin' gray and ole, 
And liiz. liiiis are weak and feeble, 

As he shibbers 'mid de cole. 
He is fur away from Dixey, 

In a land of sleet and snow, 
'Mid de: winters of de country 

Whar de chilly wins do blow. 

He iz goin' back to Dixey 

Whar de sun am shinin' warm, 
Back dar to de ole plantation, 

Dar to lib upon de farm. 
See he habs no occupation, 

And he habs no whar to go, 
Hez a stranger 'mid de people 

An' dars no one dat he know. 

He iz fur away from Dixey, 

In de Ian whar he do roam. 
From de sunny days in Dixey, 

He is fur away from home. 
Hez a gittin' old and feeble, 

And de snow am all around. 
An' hez gittin' cole and hungry 

As he goes upon de ground. 

He iz goin' back to Dixey, 

Whar he may de darkies see, 
Whar de darkies am a libin' 

An' de coons and possoms be. 
Hez a-goin' back to Dixey, 

Whar hez nebber come away. 
In de Ian of good ole Dixey, 

Iz de happy place to stay. 



ALLEN DOllMAN'S POEMS. Ill 

DOCTKINES. 
^oniig man of my country be careful 

What kind of doctrines you choose, 
First Bee that your points are all pi-oper, 

Then none of your arguments lose. 
Then go to your neighboring churchman, 

And take your Bible along. 
And give him some point of your doctrine, 

And tell him his docti-ines are wrong. 

Yes, tell him his doctrines are worthless, 

And give him your reason and why, 
His doctrines not fit to live under, 

Much less for the Christian to die. 
Yes, tell him he's in a delusion. 

And handle his doctrines about, 
And give him a point of your doctrine, 

And show him the way to get out. 

And after you've faithfully conquered 

The doctrines of neigboring men, 
"^hen tackle the doctrine of bishops. 

And show them your business with them. 
Yes, go to the infidel leader 

And tell him his doctrines are thin, 
The seed of his doctrine is Satan, 

The doctrines of evil and sin. 

Then tackle the skeptic and deist 

Tlie buddhist and atheist, too. 
The doctrines of men and of devils. 

And all that don't tally with you. 
Yes. tear up tl;e doctrines of thinkers, 

Where all is not proper and right, 
The creeds ard confessions of mortals, 

And travel along in the light. 



112 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

DAYS GONE BY. 

It fills the heart with sadness 

When memory turns back, 
And brings to mind the changes 

Of life's traveled track. 
And see of life its failings, 

How life is fleeting fast ; 
But yet we find sweet pleasures 

In thinking of the past. 

We love the scenes of childhood, 

For pleasures that they bring, 
The rosy part of life time, 

Life's early, sunny spring. 
We love them as a duty, 

Tho' they will come no more, 
The sunny scenes of childhood, 

The happy days of yore. 

Oh, who could now forget them, 

And slumber life away 
In idle dreams of leisure. 

Where pleasures cannot stay. 
Oh, yes, we'll hold them sacred, 

And truly claim them still, 
The flowers and the brooklet. 

The meadow and the hill. 

We love those days with pleasure, 

Those happy days of yore, 
Their sports and pleasant rambles, 

We love to think them o'er. 
We'll love them for their beauty. 

We'll claim them for their praise, 
We'll know them as a duty, 

Those happy, sunny days. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 113 

DARLING. 

Oh, darling, gentle darling, 

I'll claim with tender care, 
Thy charms so sweet and lovely, 

So beautiful and fair. 
You are my pretty darling, 

So friendly and so gay. 
And with your charms and blushes 

You charm me every day. 

Oh, darling, deary darling, 

I love thy charms and name, 
For thou art sweet as honey, 

So pretty and so tame. 
Oh, let me call thee darling, 

And draw thee to my breast, 
My pretty little darling 

I love thee truly best. 

If darling will be faithful, 

And love me kind and true, 
I'll promise thee, O darling, 

I will be faithful too. 
I'll love no other, darling, 

If darling will be mine; 
I'll love my darling only 

So fondly and so kind. 

I'll claim thee as my darling, 

My honey and my dear, 
And" hopes that have been coming 

Will come with brighter cheer. 
I'll cling to thee, my darling, 

And sigh in thy embrace — 
My darling, O my darling, 

There's none can fill thy place. 



114 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

Mj darling, lovely darling, 

I'll claim thy beauties fair, 
' And sigh in thy affections, 

Thy bosom and thy care. 
I'll share with thee sweet pleasure, 

As gentle as a dove. 
And saturate my senses 

In pure and darling love. 



DEATH'S NAKROW SEA. 

We dream of death, its mysteries, 

What just beyond may be, 
And fancy that we may behold 

Death's deep and narrow sea. 
Oh, pleasant scene it is to dream, 

We see from shore to shore, 
And saints passing over, 

Keturn to us no more. 

The waters calm and sweet, serene 

And pleasant to behold, 
And just beyond the narrow deep 

The city of the soul. 
Yet all is calm and still as death 

And pleasant as can be, 
And fears they vanish as we pass 

Death's deep and narrow sea. 

And just beyond the sun that shines 

Above the city bright, 
Dispels the darkness everywhere 

And moves the clouds of night. 
Oh, may we when we come to die 

Be safe from sin and free. 
And sail in safety over 

Death's deep and narrow sea. 




DO MEN LOVE WAR?-Page 115. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 115 

DO MEN LOVE WAR. 

Do men love war with all its woes ? 

Do men love death and crime? 
Do men love sin the world has known 

Thro' centuries of time, 
Do men love war with all its death, 

The scenes of cannon's bhize, 
Its fire and smoke and sabre stroke, 

And all its wicked ways? 

Do men love war with all its crime. 

Its wounds and dying groans, 
Its death upon the battle-field 

And scenes of human bones? 
Do men love death with all its pain, 

The sights that soldiers see, 
The blood that flows from dying hearts, 

And brains at yonder tree. 

Do men love war with all its sins, 

The spoils of peace and wealth, 
Its desolation everywhere, 

The harbinger of death ? 
Do men love war with all its grief. 

Its pain and bitter tears, 
Its loss of life and property. 

Its agonies and fears? 

If men liate sin and wickedness. 

Why don't they sin abhor? 
Why don't they cease forevermore 

The cruelties of war ? 
It must be man's own nature bad 

To butcher and to kill, 
And if it is his nature then. 

It is his purpose still. 



m ALLEN DOBMAN'S POEMS. 

DOG TKADE. 

In early days wo owned a dog, 

His name was Doctor Wats, 
He was a doctor of his time 

But would not mind or watch. 
Yes, he was worthless on the farm, 

He would not watch at night, 
And would not run the cattle off, 

Nor threaten them to bite. 

But he could eat a liearty lunch, 

He loved his bread and hash, 
So we determ'd to slay our dog. 

And sell his hide for cash. 
But soon we met a colored man, 

While passing thro' the woods. 
We halted him to make a trade 

And cheat him if we could. 

The darkey liad a worthless cur, 

With shabby tail and back, 
While our dog— a pretty dog — 

Was spotted white and black. 
We caught the dogs and brought them 

And, seated in the shade, [round, 
And as the dogs began to smell 

Concluded ho might trade. 

He said his dog was a good dog, 

Was heavy built and low, 
And proper made to sell or trade 

And give a man a show. 
But then we said that our dog 

Was pedigreed and fine, 
His daddy was a sheplierd dog 

Or setter of some kind. - 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 117 

Yes, he was part Newfoundland, 

And worth a China hog, 
And he was part a tarrier. 

The other part just dog. 
And so we thought we wanted boot 

To make and bind the trade. 
But that the darkey couldn't see 

And so no boot was paid. 

We had the darkey to stand up 

And then to say red leather, 
A process that he must perform 

To bind the trade forever. 
We caught the dogs and started home 

And thought we had done line. 
That we had traded Doctor Wats 

For something that would mind. 

We tied the new dog up that night 

And left him all alone. 
But then we saw next morning bright 

The doctor dog come home ; 
And soon the darkey came in haste. 

And wanted to retract, 
We teased him for a little while 

And then we traded back. 

And so it is in real life, 

The worthless things we keep. 
Like trivial sins we cannot rue 

Tho' be they ever cheap. 
We cannot trade, we cannot lose 

The sins within the breast, 
Nor purchase with them from the Lord 

An everlasting rest. 



118 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

DARK SOULS. 
In this great world where all is life, 

And everything is bright, 
And where the golden sun of day 

Doth shed his glorious liaht. 
There are dark souls that seek the dark. 

Amid the glorious day, 
And when the glaring sun is high 

Doth rue it all away. 

ifes, in their cells they seek to dwell. 

In darkness all within, 
And shun the light that's ever bright 

With coverings of sin. 
To thee, dark souls, the God of light 

Is ever watching you. 
And penetrates with perfect ease 

Your darkness thro' and thro'. 



DON'T BE SAD. 

Oh, lady fiiend, pray do not weep, 

Fray do not mourn and sigh, 
I know you weep in solitude, 

When no one else is nigh. 
I know thy heart is broken now. 

Thy looks are pale and white, 
I know thy portion has been sad. 

And you are sad to-night. 

I know you sought another's heart. 

He promised kind and true, 
But he has chosen another girl. 

And broke his vow with you. 
No more he'll pay his evening calls. 

Or cheer you with delight. 
He's filled your heart with agonies 

And you are sad tonight. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 119 

Oil, just to-night revive once more, 

Fling all your grief away. 
And do not wish to have return 

The love he cannot pay. 
So then be true, 'twas for the best, 

Revive with all your might, 
And tho' you are forsakened now, 

Be cheerful just to-night. 



DEATH'S TROUBLED SEA. 

Oh, sad indeed, when mortal hearts 

Are weary, weak and worn, 
And in their sins must sadly pass 

From life to the unknown. 
When sin has stained the troubled heart 

And life's no longer free. 
And life must leave this gloomy world 

And sail death's troubled sea. 

They see the angry rolling waves. 

They hear the tempest roar, 
And see the gloomy mists of death 

That span from shore to shore. 
They see the billows rise and fall 

In mad eternity. 
And hear the angry surges roar, 

That stir death's troubled sea. 

Oh, angry scene of gloom and fear, 

And troubled from the start, 
And souls that try to anchor safe 

Are summoned to depart. 
What scenes of gloom and wretchedness 

The sinner's lot shall be. 
The home of crime and punishment 

Beyond death's troubled sea. 



UO ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

DAYS MISSPENT. 

■ With me my tiiue's not all been spent 

In labor and in duty, 
In serving purpose for the best 

And clothing life with beauty. 
Much of my time has been misspent, 

AtkI I my brother's keeper, 
I've suffered loss from other hearts 

And both have been the reaper. 

Bright days misspent and sadly lost, 

And passed beyond redeeming, 
Were spent in grief and wayward thoughts' 

In idle hopes and dreaming. 
In grief my wandering steps have lured, 

I've wasted time and treasure,^ 
And serving grief without relief 

In precious times of leisure. 

I saw those days, those sunny days,, 

Misspent and sadly squandered,. 
In sorrow and In waywardness 

My straying steps they wandered. 
I tried to live, but all in vain. 

My sins they held me sadly, 
'Twas reaping sorrows I had sown, 

And no one loved me gladly. 

I tried to mend my broken heart, 

And help my fallen brothers. 
And thus restore the confidence 

That I had lost in others. 
My heart it worked, for hearts must v/ork, 

Yet pleasure found me never, 
And time was spent, and moments lost, 

Forever and forever. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S FOEMS. 121 

Out on the ocean-waves of life, 

My bark was troubled sadly, 
My bark was tossed 'mid ocean spray — 

jjeat on its bosom madly. 
I fcsaw the busy world around. 

How ladened ships were sailing, 
And bearing blessings for the world, 

While O, my bark was failing. 

I saw proud hearts of merit's worth 

Wcie busy at their reaping, 
An.d saw the wheels of commerce turn, 

While I was lost and sleeping. 
1 thought to self, why not I live 

And busy with my brothers, 
And be a blessing to myself 

And blessing unto others. 

Mv heart could beat as proud as their's, 

With duty and with pleasure. 
My sun could shine as bright for me, 

That I may build my treasure. 
My bark could sail as grand as theirs, 

Tho' needed some repairing, 
And help the causae of enterprise 

In reaping and in sharing. 

I sought to live, and I must live, 

If God will be my helper, 
I'll stamp improvements on my times 

And spend my monients better. 
Yet I am sad that ere I spent 

My time in idle dreaming, 
Or that so much of life is lost 

Beyond the hope redeeming. 



122 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

DANIEL WEBSTER 

Daniel Webster, Daniel Webster, 

Yes, a ^Tetit and shining light 
That will luminate-the ages 

With his honored name so bright. 
Yes, immortal with tiie earthly 

Will he permanent remain, 
While the world is so familiar 

With his labors and his name. 

Yes, a giant and a chieftain, 

And a mighty potentate, 
Swaying with hisHights of genius 

In the high affairs of state. 
God hath need of all the worthy. 

And he claims them for his love, 
Unto life and unto glory 

In a better world above. 



DAYS THAT HAVE FLOWN. 

Days that have flown, days that are gone, 

Days that have passed us by, 
Days we cherish with pride and song, 

We fancy yet so nigh. [brought. 

Bright days we loved for sports they 

We love them for their praise. 
We see them bright in memory. 

Those happy, sunny days. 

We love them best, tho' they have flown, 

Bright days when we were small, 
Tho' tiiey have passed with other days, 

They seemeth best of all. 
Yes, they have flown, those sunny (lays, 

Those happy days of youth, 
Though yet they live in memory 

As monuments of truth. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 12^ 

DRUNKAKDS. 

The drunkard should be pitied, 

Because he does not know 
The seeds of sin he scatters 

About his neighbor's door. 
He sways the hearts of others, 

In great or less degree, 
And stains the soul immortal 

For all eternity. 

They may have hearts within them. 

And strive to do the right, 
But yet their cravings bind them 

Unto their liabits tight. 
You cannot reason with them. 

They think tliey know it well. 
And pride in useless habits 

That burdens them with hell. 

Poor, wretched, human beings, 

Poor mortals of the dust, 
Who wreck the noble manhood 

God's given them in trust. 
Their systems vile and filthy. 

And life-time's wrongly spent, 
Upon the plains of glory 

Would never be content. 



FORGIYEN. 

Forgiven, the forgiven, 

Siiould try to better live. 
And imitate yon heaven, 

Its motto to forgive. 
How sweet when life is riven, 

And leaves this world of care, 
To find in yonder heaven 

Its sins forgiven there. 



i^ ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

EAKTHLY HOMES. 

We may strive and find contentment 

As thro' fleeting life we roam, 
Far in search of place or palace, 

Where to claim an earthly home. 
We may seek for gain and pleasui-e, 

Have a home that is sublime, 
Yet in such may feel it truly, 

Earthly homes are not divine. 

We may live npc>n the ocean. 

Seek for other homes away, 
But may fail to find a pleasure 

That is lasting and will stay. 
Not in titles, not in treasures, 

Not in hoines of earthly kind, 
Do we truly find contentment. 

Earth itself is not divine. 

We may seek for praise and honors 

Thro' life's hopeful, sunny days, 
While the birds so gay and cheerful 

Welcome us their songs of praise. 
But the heart may feel a warning 

In its home of earthly kind. 
That's not furnished in its structure 

With the things that are divine. 

So let's work and build a mansion, 

Not of earth or earthly gold. 
But where mansions stand forever, 

Thro' eternity untold. 
Let us work and do our duty. 

And thus treasure for the mind, 
Hope and love and peace eternal 

For a home that is divine. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 125 

EXCUSE ME LOYE. 

Excuse me now, my prettv maid, 

Yes, excuse me if you will, 
For thy heart it has been faithful, 

And I know it loves me still. 
Yes, it was a thoughtless blunder, 

On my part I was to blame. 
But if you will grant me pardon, 

You will then my love retain. 

Now this heart it seeks thy pardon, 

Now this heart it seeks thy praise, 
H<.>ping it may win the kindness 

Of thy heart for future days. 
Life is vain in vain convictions, 

Vain in what it may pursue. 
And is vain in thoughtless actions, 

Tho' it labors to be true. 

Excuse me now, my little maid. 

Yes, excuse and pardon me. 
For this heart its dearest wishes. 

Have been truly all for thee. 
Oft thy favors are remembered, 

And thy pretty charms so new, 
And thy looks of snowy whiteness 

IJaunt me still that thou art true. 

Love, when slighted or unbidden 

May in sadness turn away. 
And if love would find no pardou. 

May determine there to stay. 
Love neglected or rejected, 

While in youth or blooming health, 
May be saddened and forsakened. 

And untimely droop in death. 



126 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

EYERYWHEKE. 

Everywhere is everywhere, 

And that is all we know, 
That eveiywhere, is everywhere, 

As everywhere will show. 
And though we try to well decry 

Where everywhere is not, 
We fail to find the minute sign, 

Or designate the spot. 

In what is known and what is shown, 

In distance or in space, 
Elowever bear there's everywhere, 

And center in its place. 
Yes, everywhere is everywhere 

And e\erywhcre abcut, 
There's everywhere we may declare, 

And can't bo counted out. 



ESSENCE OF LOYE. 
Pure happy love is much the best, 

And no use to deny it, 
As many folks have thought it nice, 

And do not fear to try it; 
It has been tried in many ways. 

In dancing and in romping, 
In kissing as by accident 

When courting is not wanting. 

Wise men have oft considered it, 

And solved it with their senses, 
And say its scientific ways 

Will more than p:;y expcnecs. 
Pliiloso]ihers expounded it 

With great and close attentions, 
And poets have depicted it. 

And loveri in con\cntions. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 127 

The science man has studied it, 

And sliced it up in pieces, 
And mixed it up, and cooked it down, 

In chemistry and greases. 
Great scholars have dissected it, 

And men of education, 
And all the essence that they get 

Is sparkification. 



ENGAGED. 

'Tis sweet to keep the mind engaged. 

And serve good purpose true, 
And fully know and understand 

The work we have to doj 
In doing so we do the right, 

And do our duty best. 
As each day truly has its task, 

And has a time for rest. 

Yes, get engaged and keep engaged. 

About some worthy plan, 
And do the good as right we should 

In every way we can. 
Be friendly while we journey here. 

And useful while we live, 
And feel that life's an easy strife, 

And has good things to give. 

Yes, be engaged in life and love, 

In labor and in song. 
In doing riglit with all our might 

We learn to rue tiie wrong. 
Engaged, engaged, O, yes engaged. 

Engaged in what we do 
Is just the way to live and stay, 

And love and labor true. 



128 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

EXPOSED. 

There prevailed a great excitment, 

When the maidens beard some news, 
And s(>n}e hearts were filled with terror, 

Stricken with the market blues. 
Yes, tbej heard an awful secret, 

Of a deep romantic scheme, 
That were just some bold intentions 

Of tlie things that lovers dream. 

YeS, the aiaidens acted faithful, 

But they broke some confidence, 
And exposed an awful danger. 

Love was sought as recompense. 
Cv^urtship has its little troubles, 

In its stiides to get above, 
And to beat some special rival, 

Anything is fair in love. 

Yes, the maidens labored faithful, 

And they took their proper stand, 
Just to change the circumstances. 

And to nullify some plans. 
Much was talked in maiden's council, 

Plans to meet such awful scheme, 
Much adopted wise and proper, 

All to justify the means.. 

Just a scheme, a hidden secret. 

Was exposed with maidens 'round, 
And it turned some wild, excited, 

As they spread it o'er the town. 
Strange that plans cannot go proper. 

When we plan with thought and care. 
But is headed off romantic 

By the lovely and the fair. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 129 

ENYY. 

What is envy and its nature? 

Is it something that you see? 
Is it what the foe so often 

In his hatred handles free? 
Is it meanness? Is it madness? 

Is it anger, is it blame? 
Is it something of this nature? 

Is it malice, is it shame? 

Env}', envy, awful envy, 

Men doth scatter all around. 
And may check the march of merit, 

Or may crush it rudely down. 
When I try to do my duty. 

When I feel that I am free, 
What hath I done to my neighbor 

He should hate and envv me? 



ETEKNITY. 

Eternity, boundless in extent, 

Immortal and perpetual, 
Endless, lasting, never ceasing, 

Almighty and eflfectual ; 
Potent power, everlasting. 

Expanse, distaiice, unwavering, 
Divine, mighty, ever changing, 

Moving and unwearing. 

Eternity, endless and forever, 

Fadeless and unfaltering, 
Surprising, mighty, wonderful, 

Changing, yet unaltering. 
Lord, strength and unwasting, 

Creator and divine, 
Firmness, durable, imperishable, 

Eternitv is thine. 



130 ALLEN DOUMANS POEMS. 

EAELY IMPRESSIONS. 

Early impressions on the mind 

May be the best to stay, 
And may be vivid all thro' life, 

And least to wear away. 
Far back in days of early life, 

Far back in early youth. 
Impressions made then on the mind, 

May verify this truth. 

A deed, a word,^ a light, a tune, 

An hour after birth, 
May stay impressed upon the mind 

For all that it is worth. 
So let our hearts be mindful then, 

Of early habits new. 
And thus improve the youthful mind 

With all that's good and true. 



EVENING SHADES. 

The evening shades, how still they grow, 

And hasten in their length. 
Until the glorious sun is set 

In all his might and strength. 
The evening shades, how oft they come 

At close of sunny days, 
And tho' their scenes are sometimes sal, 

May have their mirth and praise. 

'Tis sweet to watch the evening shades, 

The little shadows move. 
The little lessons that they teach, 

Yet mighty problems prove. 
And as the shades of evening come. 

Will come the shades of time. 
And hearts will vanish in the dark, 

That have no lights to shine. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 131 

FOR OLD AGE. 
Youth should have bright and cheerful 
hopes, 

And keep the mind engaged 
With thoughts that life may wisely store, 

And treasure for old age. 
Old age may have to toil and try, 

And work from morn till night. 
And sadly barter health for gain, 

Or deviate from right. 

May have to toil with hasty speed, 

And hurry on thro' life, 
And forced to struggle as it goes, 

Thro' bitter things of strife. 
Yes, fancy that we see our age 

Far in its future state. 
Then think how soon that it will come, 

If we but live and wait. 

Old age will have what it rears up, 

Its pleasure or its pain, 
Its peace, its praise, its happiness, 

Its sorrow and its shame. 
Then O, how sad if life be wrecked. 

And age should not find rest, 
If life be spent in idleness. 

Old age will not be blest. 

Old age is what we make it now. 

Its blessings and its name, 
Its trials then will be as now. 

Or very much the same. 
So let us work and wisely live. 

And know that age must come. 
And thus prepare that age may have 

A pleasant evening sun. 



133 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

FAIK WOMEN. 

Fair women, gentle women, 

So beautiful and gay, 
That in our dreams and fancies 

They charm us all the day. 
Oh, yes, their charms are pretty. 

So lovely and so fair. 
That it is sweet to cherish 

Their beauties and their care. 

When they are clothed in neatness, 

With features fair and new, 
And all their charms are blooming. 

So lovely and so true. 
Oh, then we love their beauties, 

And dearly love to eee 
Their features fair and winning, 

As lovely as can be. 

Ihe women, yes, the women. 

When charming^s all the go, 
We love to see them cheerful 

And love t(^ tell them so. 
Their eyes of diamond brightness 

Are pleasing to behold, 
Their forms of snowy whiteness 

May charm the very soul. 

Life's highest occupation, 

To stay and pass the time. 
The women and the weather 

Would be enough to mind. 
Oh, what's the use of claiming 

One nice and pretty tree, 
When we can claim the orehaid ■ 

All happy and so f ice. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 133 

FLOWEES. 

The flowers and the roses, 

The jewels of the field, 
Are ever loved and cherished 

For blessings that they yield. 
They grow in spring and summer, 

When everything is green, 
And in the time of autumn 

There's flowers to be seen. 

They bloom among the mountains, 

And in the meadow wide, 
And at the sparkling streamlet 

Bloom gently near its side. 
And at the wreck of bridges, 

By ancient temples old, 
Sweet flowers may be blowing 

Their lovely tints of gold. 

Down in the lonely valley. 

Where soldiers are at rest. 
May bloom the lovely flowers. 

The sweetest and the best. 
Yes, they adorn the gardens. 

And grow by nature's care, 
On mossy rocks and hillsides, 

Sweet flowers may be there. 

Oh, soon the flowers perish, 

And sadly pass away. 
And wakens on memory. 

Earth's beauties cannot stay. 
The beautiful and lovely, 

The sacred and the fair, 
Must yield to law and order, 

Its cnanges and its care, 



134 ALLEN DOHMAN'S POEMS. 

FORGETFUL NATURE. 

Nature teaches changeful lessons, 

Teaches change in every way, 
Teaches lost, forgetful lessons. 

In its night and in its day. 
Teaches change in changeful weather, 

In the shadows and the light, 
Constant changing and forgetting. 

As the day forgets the night. 

Spring forgets the cold of winter. 

Time incessant hastens on, 
Fall forgets the change of summer. 

And the day forgets the dawn. 
Storms that rage with claps of thunder, 

Clouds that spread the summer sky, 
All forget the pleasant sunshine, 

Life forgets that death is nigh. 

Leaves that grow and buds that blossom, 

And the turf on which we tread, 
All forget of last year"'s changes. 

And the snow that winter spread. 
All the birds that sing and cheer us 

In the pleasant summer days. 
Have forgot the chills of winter. 

In their songs of mirth and praise. 

All the flowers and the roses. 

All the praises of our youth. 
All the changes of a life time. 

Go to prove this solemn truth. 
In the laws of all creation 

Go to teach oblivion, 
Ever changing, dying, sinking, 

In the vast diluvian. 



ALLEN DORM AN S POEMS. 13& 

FALLEN MEN. 
Fallen men should not be hated, 

Tho' their efforts were in vain, 
If it was their honest failures 

Brought about their grief and pain. 
If they tried to do their duty, 

And the foe was much too strong. 
It was not their act of failing 

That would make their purpose wrong. 

Yes, their hearts may be of merit. 

Men who love and do the right. 
But conditions were against them. 

And they failed to win the fight. 
They perhaps would do us favor, 

They pei-haps have weeping eyes, 
They would help a fallen brother. 

And prepared to sympathize. 

Fallen men we see around us. 

They may need our help and care, 
They may need our deeds of kindness. 

They may need our words of prayer. 
Fallen men should be respected. 

And they should be treated right, 
And their hearts should be encouraged, 

That their burdens may be light. 

Fallen men may have their troubles, 

Have their grief and have their pain, 
And the censure of the wicked. 

Who delight to talk and blame. 
Let us then be kind and friendly' 

With the fallen and the sad. 
Helping them with deeds of kindness. 

Cheer their hearts and make them glad. 



136 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

FAME. 

The sun that shines in yonder sky 

May shine alike for all, 
It brightens up this opaque world 

Where e'er its rays may fall. 
It makes the living what it is, 

The flowers and the tree, 
And gives to earth its purpose well, 

Whatever that may be. 

And so it is the sun of fame. 

It makes the heart feel brave, 
And gives it courage to pursue 

The woith it seeks to save. 
We to the hearts this tribute give. 

Who once with humble names 
Have born them to immortal heights, 

And written them on fame. 

'Tis thus the prize that labor wins. 

Ambition has its call. 
And those who rise by merits' ways, 

May never rise to fall. 
Yes, those who toil and those who try, 

And labor day by day, 
May write their names along with fame, 

And write them there to stay. 

So let our names immortal rise. 

Beneath so bright a sun. 
And sweetly live for memories 

Thro' ages yet 4;o come. 
Yes, let our hearts be true and brave, 

And seek a good reward, 
As sweet success may be for those 

Whose labors serve the Lord. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 137 

FALLEN BROTHEKS. 
Go help your fallen brother, 

Go teach him how to live, 
Go tell him of his Savior, 

How freely he'll forgive. 
You see him in his peril, 

He is your brother sad, 
Go lend a hand of mercy 

And win him from the bad. 

We all have fallen brothers 

Who need our help and love, 
The children of one Father 

Who dwells in peace above. 
Go help him in his dungeon, 

Redeem him if you can, 
Your brothers and your sisters, 

Go lend a helping hand. 

They are tlie tempter's victims. 

They need the light of day, 
Perhaps it was contention 

That turned their hearts astray. 
Go at the dawn of morning, 

Go at tlie noon-day bright. 
Go at the close of evening. 

Go at the hush of night. 

Yes, go thou Cliristian coward. 

You see your brother stray, 
Down in the street he's fallen. 

Go help him while you may. 
Don't crusli him down with slander, 

But dress his burning pain. 
Go tell him he's your brother. 

That he may live again. 



138 .ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

Go help Your fallen sisters 

VVitli help you have in store, 
Go scatter seeds of kindness 

About her dungeon door. 
'Tis true she hates her vices, 

She's weak and can't do right, 
'Twas when the heart was saddened, 

That came the cloud of night. 

'Twas once her heart was cherished 

By some loved one of youth, 
When it was pure and sacred, 

And loved the light of truth. 
But she has sinned and fallen, 

And you help keep her down, 
Go tell her of the sunlight 

That's everywhere around. 

Her sins they are disgusting, 

She hates them much as you, 
With God they are insulting. 

But yet she can't be true. 
Go help the sad and fallen, 

They feel you are to blame. 
Because they are neglected. 

And dying in their pain. 

One precious soul's worth saving. 

If left with God to say. 
If prized with earth its treasures. 

The earth would melt away. 
Then lift the veil of sorrow, 

And bid the fallen live, 
And tho' their sins be crimson, 

God's promised to forgive. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 139 

FOLLOW ME. 
Yes, follow me my brothers, 

In purpose and in deed, 
As I the eldest brother 

Should proper take the lead. 
And let us march t()e;etlier 

And enter in the fight, 
And we will surely conquer, 

In what is good and right. 

It seems we are forsakened 

Just now in early life, 
But if we stand united 

We'll conquer in the strife. 
Arise at early morning, 

And go or follow me, 
And let us work like brothers, 

Determined to be free. 

This life has much to cheer us 

When all around is praise, 
And nature's sky is friendly 

With bright and sunny days. 
And it is right and manly 

To help each other free, 
And wisely do our duty. 

Whatever that may be. 

And if we do our duty. 

And strive to labor true, 
The world will lend us courage, 

And God will bless us too. 
For soon will life be ended. 

And labors will be o'er, 
When we may rest securely 

From labors evermore. 



140 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

FAMOUS. 

Tliere's famous men among us, 

Whose lives are shining lights, 
That cheer tlie weary pilgrims 

Thro' dark and dreary nights. 
This life is one great journey, 

A voyage far at sea, 
A battle-field while marching 

For one eternity. 

And pilgrims may get famous, 

Thro' bright and worthy ways, 
By wisely helping others. 

And justly merit praise. 
A famous reputation 

That's ever wending higher, 
And's often celebrated 

Is worthy to aspire. 



FOKEYEK. 

Fo>rever is forever, 

An awful lengthy time. 
And what must live forever 

Is not of mortal kind. 
The mortal may be lasting. 

But can't forever stay, 
What's mortal in its nature 

Is subject to decay. 

They tell us that the angels 

In heaven do not die. 
But that they live forever 

In heaven there on high. 
Forever, yes, forever, 

Immortal and divine. 
Shall live the things forever, 

That's of immortal kind. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 141 

FAK-SEEING DEMOCEATS. 

Some far-seeing democrats, 

So loyal and so true, 
With penetrating visions 

May glare you thro' and thro'. 
They see in mighty distance 

The workings of the foe, 
And tell, as politicians, 

How great elections go. 

They most are office-seekers, 

And blab and gas and try. 
And deeply deal in measures. 

And use the letter I. 
They're mighty self-conceited, 

And wear the party coat, 
But may not help the party 

Except to gas and vote. 



FEEBLE AGE. 
My worttiy friend, my aged friend, 

Thy limbs tiiey tremble now. 
The years that brought thy feeble age, 

Brought furrows to thy brow. 
Your speech is feeble as you talk. 

In what you try to say. 
And years that brooded o'er thy head 

Hath frosted it with gray. 

Thy limbs they tremble with old age. 

Thy strength is failing fast, 
The sun that lingers in your sky 

Will soon be set at last. 
Thy heart must fail with wasting years, 

As innocent as youth. 
The law of life's own nature thus 

Proclaims this solemn truth. 



m ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 

FADING. 

Fading like the mist of morn, 

All that's bright and gay, 
All that's lovely in this life, 

Doomed to pass away. 
Fading, fading, all of earth, 

Every plant and tree. 
Ever drifting with their worth, 

For eternity. 



GKIM CRITICS. 

When critics try to criticise 

The work that we have done, 
We think that they have ended off 

Just where we first begun. 
But when they try to ridicule 

And say that we are wrong. 
We feel that Satan is behind, 

A shovin' them along. 

What you may write there's always men 

To criticise and blame. 
And they are just the very men 

Who fizzled at the same. 
Yes, when we try to do our best. 

The Devil has his clerk, 
A man who fizzled at his own 

To criticise our work. 

In times of war there's always men 

To criticise and plan, 
And tell how battles all would go 

If they just had command. 
So let our labors be for right, 

And live what we ehould be, 
Tho' men may chocec to ciilicisc. 

They do not bother ii.c. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 143 

DKEAM OF BEAUTY. 

I dreamt a dream, a fairy scene, 

A dream of beauty and love, 
Not 'mid scenes of earthly rudeness, 

But was higher and above. 
It was fair and it was lovely. 

Charms and graces yet untold. 
And its forms were forms of glory, 

Kich and pleasant to behold. 

Scene of gladness, hope and brightness, 

Beauty in fair beauty's home. 
As if borrowed from the glories 

Of a scene of heaven's own. 
Bright and lovely, free from sadness, 

"Was that fair and charming scene, 
And of earth, tho' heaven's nature. 

In my sweet and pleasant dream. 

GEORGE K SNEDIKER. 

IN MEMORIAM. 

One by one our schoolmates fall 

Beneath the pain they bear. 
And sink to earth and pass away 

Beyond this world of care. 
Life is at best a misty dream, 

A vapor or a span. 
Unmindful of its certain doom 

That may be nigh at hand. 

May peace be thine, my worthy friend, 

And free thy heart from pain. 
Thy soul it sought a friendly God, 

And sought Him not in vain. 
Oh, may we meet in peace above, 

Beyond this world of sin, 
And teach the hearts that follow on 

The way to enter in. 



144 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

GEN. U. S. GRANT. 
The world hath need of great men 

To manage its affairs, 
And labor with its rulings, 

Its duties and its cares. 
In every land and nation, 

Where great men may be found, 
Such countries are respected 

The civil world around. 

Thus Mr. Grant he labored. 

And served his purpose true, 
And did a work of merit 

No other man could do. 
Whatever may be questioned 

Or suffered for a test 
About his public actions, 

All's happened for the best. 



GOOD INTENTIONS. 

Good intentions may remind us 

Of some labor needed done, 
But the action of its doing 

May or may not ever come. 
All along life's rugged journey, 

Good intentions may be found — 
Good intentions without actions. 

Wasted, crushed forever down. 

Good intentions came in season, 

But the heart it did not save, 
Scattered all along life's journey 

From the cradle to the grave. 
Oh, if all life's good intentions 

Were improved or wisely done, 
Life could hardly have a limit 

Of its battles sweetly won. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEJiS. II 

GOLDEN DAYS. 

How sweet, how bright, how pleasant 

The golden days. that como 
And bring for life its blessings 

Alike for every one. 
We hear the songs of summer, 

The little birds that sing, 
And feel how sweet the blessings 

That summer days may bring. 

Oh, when the heart is gladdened 

With bright and sunny days, 
May sweetly lift it higher 

In nature's mirth and praise. 
And 'waken hope within it 

For other days to come, 
And make life's journey pleasant 

Beneath its golden sun. 

But soon the hopes of summer 

And golden songs of May 
Must cease, alas, forever, 

And sadly pass away. 
So let us reap life's blessings 

And store them when they come, 
While all around is pleasant, 
Beneath so bright a sun. 

Oh, let us all take courage 
And labor, love and try, 
And sweetly do our duty 

While nature's sun is high. 
And life will then be better 

And praises lure us on, 
Till love and labor ceases. 
And golden days are, gone. 



146 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

GEIEF. 

Oh, bitter grief, and yet my friend, 

In thee do I repent; 
It may be vain in choosing thee, 

But yet with true intent. 
I come to thee in solitude, 

With all my weight of care, 
To free the burdens from my heart 

When they are sore to bear. 

Desponding grief, despairing grief, 

In thee we do confide 
With hope to ease our sufi'erings. 

And lay them all aside. 
Afflictions come and weight us down, 

In thee we know not why. 
As truly thus our hearts must mourn 

Whenever grief is nigh. 

There is a sigh in every heart 

And in our nature deep. 
That bids us mourn, to free the pain 

Our bosoms cannot keep. 
Life's bitter grief, and wasting hopes, 

Its failing efforts vain, 
Are bodings that the heart must know 

Life's agonizing pain. 

Grief is a member of the lieart 

That darkens all within, 
And turns the heart to wretchedness 

When hope cannot get in. 
There is no heart, however bold, 

Who feels and will not sigh, 
Or feel some changes in the heart 

When bitter grief is nigh. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 147 

GIVE ME PEACE. 
Give me peace, and give me hope 

Wlien my heart is sad, 
They will cheer me on my way. 

They will make me glad. 
Give me peace when I am weak, 

When 1 mourn and sigh. 
Let me feel that I am blest 

And that peace is nigh. 

Give me peace and give me praise, 

Give me hope and cheer, 
Let them serve me as a guide 

Thro' life's every fear. 
When my foes so harshly speak. 

When they envy me. 
Let me feel that I am blest 

In a world so free. 

Give me peace, and give me love 

When I weep and mourn, 
Give me hope, and give me cheer, 

When I'm weak and worn. 
Give me peace when I am sick, 

When my hopes decline 
Cheer my heart and make it glad 

With your praises kind. 

Give me peace in times of need, 

When my hopes are vain ; 
Help me strive that I may be 

What I should attain. 
When we reach that world above, 

When from sin released, 
We shall know forevermore 

There abideth peace, j 



148 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

GOIKG WITH ANOTHER. 

I know my pretty maiden, 

She claims another man, 
So I must claim another 

And do the best I can. 
She tries my better nature, 

But watclies me the same. 
So when M'e get thro' trying 

May then see who's to blame. 

She works her maiden's nature. 

And works my nature too. 
And prompts in my opinion 

That she is hardly true. 
It may seem nice and proper 

To have romantic fun — 
But going with another 

May lose the other one. 

Perhaps she's just a trying 
To see what I may do, 

But then would rather make up 
And act a little true. 

The heart it is deceitful, 
And sin is never right, 

As sin may learn, and truly, 
That after day comes night. 



GLORIOUS. 

All glorious, glorious, 

Happy and divine, 
She lielped me pop the question, 

Said she would be mine. 
Now if you'll be my lover. 

My sweet prettj' maid, 
Just give me your hand gently 

And call it a trade. 




GEORGE WASIIINGTON.-Page 149. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 149 

GOD IS LOVE. 

God is good and God is mercy, 

God immortal dwells above, 
God is glory, God is pleasure, 

God is peace and God is love. 
All the flowers test his goodness, 

All of nature everywhere 
Go to prove that He is wisdom, 

And is watchful in His care. 

God is great and God is safety, 

God is song and God is light, 
God is king for the hereafter, 

God is pardon, God is might. 
God is promise, God is heaven, 

God is lasting and above, 
God is certain and forever, 

God is hope and God is love. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

The honored George Washington, 

A great and worthy man, 
The father of his country, 

America's proud land. 
He fought in time of peril, 

And bore our flag unfurled, 
And made this land a nation, 

The brightest of the world. 

A land of hope and freedom. 

Pre-eminent alone, 
Of great men and inventions, 

Of liberty and home. 
Long may our country flourish, 

Its glory and its fame 
Be ever celebrated 

With Washin£:ton''s name. 



150 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

GKEAT MEN. 
Great men are bright and shining lights, 

Ihey help the world to shine, 
And Juminate the liruiament 

Of turmoil and of time. 
And when the clouds of darkness spread 

O'er every plain and hill, 
And when the foe oppress them most, 

They shine the brighter still. 

Great men we know tliem by their deeds 

And see their actions bright, 
They rule and sway the hearts of men, 

For they are gems of light. 
So let us all determin'd be. 

As all great persons should, 
And honor merit in great men. 

The worthy and the good. 



GOOD DEEDS. 

When life is old and feeble, 

And glares its evening sun. 
The heart may then look backward, 

O'er good deeds it has done. 
Good deeds they stand in mem'ry. 

As bright events that stay, 
And ornament life's journey 

As stations on the way. 

Good deeds they sweetly cheer us. 

And make our pathway bright, 
When rendered unto others 

May make their burdens light. 
Good deeds should be our motto, 

While sweetly now we live, 
As deeds of love and kindness 

Are favors all may give. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 151 

GOOD IMPKESSIONS. 

Good impressions wrought by others 

On our hearts may sweetly stay, 
And may prompt us to do better, 

And to live a nobler way. 
Good impressions may be lasting, 

And may lure us for the best, 
Sweetly on and sweetly upward 

Where to be forever blest* 

Good impressions are the jeWele, 

Gems that ornament the mind, 
And may sweetly prove as blessings 

For this life and future time. 
So we then should all be careful 

What we do and what we say. 
As our actions are impressions 

On some heart to live and stay. 



GOSSIP. 

Gossip, gossip all around. 
Seldom building— tearing down. 
Burning like the heated flame, 
Spreading sorrow, sin and shame. 
Like the whetted sword and knife, 
Stabbing sister, son and wife. 
Seeking for a name to kill 
That has taken time to build. 

Gossip, gossip, flaming fire. 
Satisfying base desire. 
Demon, devil, talking bad. 
Spreading desolation sad. 
Hell is full of gossip news. 
Where they gossip what they choose, 
Gossip primed and cocked for sale, 
Down in hell will have a tale. 



152 ALLEN DORJIAN'S POEMS. 

HOW CHEERLESS. 

How cheerless is the lieart 

When once by love betrayed; 
It ne'er again may have 

A hope for guiltless maid. 
The heart within may monrn, 

And faint in sad despair, 
As if the soul had lost 

Its only hope and care. 

The sun may shine above, 

And set at pleasant eve. 
Yet naught may cheer the heart 

When bi'oken and deceived. 
Oh, what is life with those 

Who hear no song or praise, 
And have no hope in life 

Of other future days ? 

But then a task for all 

Is given each to do, 
And we should do our part, 

And prove to others true. 
Yes, cheer the hearts that weep, 

With gentle love and praise, 
That others may be blest 

Thro' all life's fleeting days. 

We know not what may pass 

With those we hold so dear. 
Or how their hearts may change. 

Unmindful of our fear. 
So let us do the right 

And work while life is free. 
As everything we do 

Is for eternity. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. ISJ 

HAPPINESS. 

"We often seek for happiness 

Here in tliis world of grief ; 
It strengthens up the fainting heart 

And gives the heart relief. 
It gives the heart a higher sphere 

In cheering songs and love, 
And lures us sweetly on and on 

To its own home above. 

Our hearts hath need of happiness 

Here in this mortal home ; 
It cheers the heart in times of need. 

In public or alone. 
It often comes to saddened hearts 

And takes them on surprise, 
As blessings sweet may often do, 

Comes often in disguise. 

Oh, who would rue sweet happiness, 

While spring of life is gay. 
And price too low life's hope of it 

And idle life away? 
Oh, let us live for happiness 

And work as we should do, 
That life may reap it as its own 

And ever claim it true. 

Yes, let us labor day by day 

And do our duty right, 
And truly labor while the sun 

Is gladly shining bright. 
Oh, let us claim sweet happiness; 

Its earthly home is love. 
And it will guide us to its honie 

In Heaven sweet above. 



154 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

HEARTS THAT MOURN. 
Be kind to those who mourn and weep, 

Be friendly with the poor; 
A kind word or a gentle smile 

A broken heart may cure. 
Be kind to those whose hearts are sad, 

Whose hearts are weak and worn, 
And those who weep in solitude, 

For they hare cause to mourn. 

Bejkind with those whose hearts have failed, 

And in their troubles weep, 
For kindness shown with troubled hearts 

We may their kindness reap. 
Be kind with those who have no friends, 

God only knows their grief; 
A kind word spoken to the poor 

May give their hearts relief. 

For life is such we know not why 

That life must toil and bear. 
And hearts that toil may sometimes fail 

Beneath some weight or care. 
The loss of friends we dearly love, 

The sad, worn cares of time, 
And troubles of adversity, 

May cause us to repine. 

Life's little troubles, day by day, 

And things that others do, 
May cause our spirits to decline 

When others are not true. 
So let our hearts be kind with all. 

The troubled and the worn. 
The wretched and unfortunate. 

For they are hearts that mourn. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 155 

HOME OF THE BEACJTIFUL. 
Home of the beautiful, 

Home of the fair, 
Sought by the beautiful, 

Proper with care. 
So charming and pleasing, 

Brighter than day, 
Hopeful, and seemingly, 

Not far away. 

Home of our destiny, 

Governed with pride,. 
Endless and heavenly. 

Boundless and wide. 
All pleasant and dawning. 

Gladdened with song, 
All mindful and warning, 

Eight from the wrong. 

Home of the beautiful, 

Safely from sin, 
None but the beautif'^^ 

Enter therein. 
Never bemeaning. 

Features that borrow, 
Sweetly redeeming, 
Peace from earth's sorrow. 

It's not of earth's beauty, 

Not of earth's pain, 
And not of earth's pity, 

Not of earth's shame. 
Home of the beautiful, 

Home of the fair, 
None but the beautiful 

Entereth there. 



156 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

HIT OR MISS. 
Hit or miss, we should be doing, 

We should labor every day, 
We should struggle with our duty 

As we journey on life's way. 
We should labor and in earnest, 

Toiling on beneath the sun, 
Working in the golden harvest 

Till the harvest work is done. 

Hit or miss, we should be trying, 

AVaking pleasures now asleep, 
If we gain life's rarest blessing 

We must dig them from the deep. 
Let us work and do our duty. 

Let us labor for the right, 
While the heart is light and cheerful, 

And the morning sun is bright. 

flit or miss, we should be working, 

Life indeed is short at best, 
And the heart that truly labors, 

Sweetly, surely may be blest. 
God will help the heart that labors. 

And will make its journey bright. 
He will guide it and will bless it. 

And will keep it in the right. 

Hit or miss, we should be earnest. 

Though we miss 'tis no disgrace, 
If we hit 'twas all thro' trying 

That we struck the center place. 
Life is such it often blunders, 

Tho' it works with care and might, 
Yet success will surely crown us 

If the heart within is right. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 157 

HOPE. 

Bounding liope is never sterile, 

It briglitens np tlie way, 
And gladly bears us on thro' life 

To one eternal day. 
'Tis hope that cheers the weary heart, 

And makes it strong and brave, 
And guides the heart with contidenee 

In triumph o'er the grave. 

And tho' we sail far out at sea, 

Where troubled billows roar, 
'Tis hope tliat lures us sweetly on, 

And brings us safe to shore. 
By faith we see the great beyond. 

Thro' mortal visions cast, 
And hope that bears us gladly on. 

And brings us home at last. 

Oh, poor indeed we all would be. 

Was life not truly blest 
With hope that dwells witliin our hearts 

And center in the breast. 
The pleasant mornings all thro' life. 

And merry birds that sing, 
'Tis hope that mingles with them all 

And gladdens everything. 

It is the Christian's destiny. 

And when the heart is sad, 
'Tis hope that gives it fortitude 

And makes it truly glad. 
'Tis hope that makes our journey bright 

And drives despair away. 
And hope that lures us safely up 

To hope's eternal day. 



158 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

HUMAN NATUKE. 

Whatever life may gatlier 

Or seek at its command, 
There's much in human nature 

We may not understand; 
Yet, he who reads it proper 

May truly comprehend, 
That skill may be acquired 

In dealing mucli with men. 

There is in human nature 

A faculty to learn, 
And govern other natures, 

Or govern in return. 
The human heart is human, 

It may be friend or foe, 
It may be guest or brother, 

It may be high or low. 

Yet, he who knows his brother 

In deeds of human kind, 
Tho' be he friend or stranger, 

Is human most divine. 
But he who seeks to question 

The human natuie down, 
May injure his own nature 

With other natures 'round. 

The heart is full of natures, 

But may not understand 
Its evolution dickers 

With monkey and the man. 
In wild reckless conjures 

Of liuman nature's will, 
Its origin and purpose. 

Its human nature still. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 159 

HEK FEATURES. 
Her featui'es once were lovely, 

Her maimers once were kind, 
Her ways were nice and winning. 

And pleasing to the mind. 
Her songs were sweet and charming, 

And came with magic ease. 
Like gentle strains of music 

Comes floating on the breeze. 

Oh yes, I do remember 

Her gentle deeds of yore, 
And thought brings back with pleasure 

The beauties that she wore. 
When youth was sweet and pleasant, 

And hopes were bright and new, 
Comes thoughts when she was lovely, 

Was friendlv, kind and true. 



HORACE GREELEY. 

There are great men of glory. 

Of merit and of worth, 
Who live in fame and story, 

Immortal on the earth. 
They gain tlieir lofty stations 

Where all around is bright, 
And place their names securely 

Above the throne of right. 

And thus with Mr. Greeley, 

He truly fought his way. 
And gained his honored station 

Securely there to stay. 
A man among the many. 

With worthy thoughts within. 
He manly fought life's battles 

And truly fought to win. 



160 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

HOW THEY JINGLE. 
How they jingle, how they jingle, 

Mingle, shingle, but not single. 
Went to congress for some glory, 

But he heard the seeker's story. 
And his chances for the dollar-wars, 

Where the dads say ' 'get out shallowars'' 
That the office sign must jingle 

With another on the shingle. 

Dreams and thoughts of first creation, 

When he gets to nioditation — 
And his thoughts begin to jingle. 

Wonders why he wants the shingle. 
Lost in hell are good intentions. 

Coming dads must hold conventions, 
All in this a world of sin, 

Fizzled but it might have been. 



HOPE AND FAITH. 
Hope and faith when well united, 

Serving God as truly one, 
Builds a promise in the bosom 

Of the better dajs to come. 
Hope, a stationed light before us, 

Faith thro' which the lieart may see, 
Sweetly serving as a guidance 

To the bright eternity. 

Yes, they lift us and they lure us, 

And they guide us on the way, 
Sweetly, brightly, gently onward, 

Up to hope's eternal day. 
Hope and faith, the pilgrim's compass. 

Promised thro' this vale of tears 
Up where hope and faith are real, 

Thro' the roll of endless years. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S lOEMS. 161 

HOW IT COST. 

How it cost for hearts to perish, 

Loving hearts and useful men, 
And how grief may raise expenses. 

Yet 'tis worthy to befriend. 
Cost that fashion terras as proper 

And respect for kindred lost, 
Grief tliat yields to fate and custom, 

Grief that yields to count the cost. 

Others' eyes may be expensive, 

Fashioned in its saddened state. 
Pomp and show for thee departed. 

Cost to die with some are great. 
If my death must be expensive, 

And my funeral cost so high, 
I should feel to live 'tis cheaper. 

For the coming by-and-by. 



HOT WEATHER. 

When the sun is shining down 

And makes the weather hot. 
It wai-ns U8 well to seek a place 

Where sun is shining not. 
The sultry days in summer time, 

They warm the summer nights, 
And make it awful hard to sleep 

With bed-bugs as they bite. 

When days are long and nights are short, 

And night-bugs on the trot. 
And large, sweet girls lay out to air, 

Are signs ihnt it is hot. 
Hot weather days they come and go 

In this our mortal life. 
And man his portion seemeth hot 

Jo have a scolding wife, 



162 ALLEN DOUMANS t'OEMg; 

HENRY CLAY. 

The great men and the useful men^ 

The worthy and the true, 
We love to praise and imitate 

In much they say and do. 
Yes, great names and the cherished named 

That glow in history bright, 
They shine like lone and stationed stars 

Or burning suns of light. 

They iielp the world, they bless the world 

In all their might and main, 
Their lives and deeds are shining lights 

Of, what we should attain. 
Oh, to the hearts that rule the world 

By worthy deeds and ways. 
We owe a debt of gratitude, 

Of honor and of praise. 



HENRY KIRKE WHITE. 

The bi'ight gems and the worthy, 

The jewels of the earth, 
Are with the human sacred, 

Of real zest and worth. 
Tlie diamonds of the human, 

In merit pure and fine, 
The highest and the rarest 

Of mortal most divine. 

And thus it was with Henry, 

Divine that he shall live, 
A gem for earth and heaven. 

The purest earth could give. 
A light of hope and glory, 

A lonely star to shine. 
In this great world of darkness, 

For a fires and for time. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 163 

HELPING HEAKTS. 

Helping hearts and helping hands, 

When indeed combined, 
Go to build up character 

Thro' the heart and mind. 
Man who helps his neighbor man, 

And with motives free, 
Helps himself by giving help. 

Just as it should be. 

Life is such we know^ not why, 

Peace we often spurn, 
Yet in helping other hearts. 

Reap it in return. 
Helping hearts in much they do 

Reap the seed they sow, 
And helping hearts may garner sweet 

Blessings here below. 



IIURLEi) IN THE PAST. 
Hurled in the past on wings of time, 

Moments of night and day. 
And pleasures sweet that often come 

Are likewise passing away. 
There's naught in life that stays secure. 

But follows with the tide 
Of time that lures us hastily on, 

To eternity wide. 

Hurled in the past is life itself, 

And on the wings of time, 
It leaves its record in its trail 

With all it leaves behind. 
The law of nature is its guide, 

The law it must obey. 
And blend its nature with the earth, 

Where all things pass away. 



164 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

HEAYEN. 

Oh, heaven, the center of centers great, 

Of all that is grand and bright, 
The fountain and source of peace and love, 

Above all darkness and night. 
Immortal, eternal, secure and divine, 

Of pleasures is heaven the best, 
The city wliere saints of all ages unite 

And gather the good and the blest. 

Oil heaven, sweet heaven, that far-off home, 

My youth hath dreamt of thee, 
And God and angels abideth there 

Are waiting for you and me. 
The pilgrim's hope as he journeys here, 

The distant home of the soul. 
The world that is best of all God's work, 

The rest is left untold. 



H. W. LONGFELLOW. 

Oh, worthy friend, we humbly bow, 

Would honor if we could, 
And thus respect the memory 

Of one so great and good. 
You labored for humanity, 

Your work was nobly done, 
You lived a life of usefulness, 

A true and worthy one. 

Thy work will live, it cannot die, 

Thy work of verse and rhyme 
Will spurn the presence of decay 

Through all corroding time. 
Go sleep in peace, thou worthy one, 

As earth is truly blest, 
And God is mindful of thy deeds, 

Thy heart it needed rest. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 165 

HOME. 
Home, the heart's abiding place, 

Home, the heart's abode, 
And is constant traveling for 

Over life's rough road. 
Ever seeking day by day, 

Not to be alone ; 
Where life's truest friends abide. 

There is real home. 

Home the heart is seeking for 

That it may be blest, 
When the weary heart is sad 

Home may furnish rest. 
Home, tlie pilgrim's destiny. 

Home for every one, 
Home, sweet home, and real home, 

When this home is done. 



HON. A. H. STEPHENS. 
Alexander H. Stephens, 

His bright and worthy name 
Will stand firm in history, 

In honor and in fame. 
He fought life's battles manly, 

As one who dared to fight. 
And stood by his convictions 

In what he thought was right. 

He was a southern chieftain, 

A worthy man indeed. 
And sought to help his country 

In peril and in need. 
Long may his name be cherished, 

And glow in history bright. 
And stand for time and ages 

A monument of right. 



166 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

HOMER. 

Homer, Homer, epic Homer, 

Distant far away, 
Like a lonely star of glory, 

Stationed there to stay. 
Shining lonely from its distance 

With a Incid hue, 
Tinted with a diamond lustre, 

Ever beaming new. 

Yes, a name of ancient glory. 

Real far away, 
Bearing us much light and story 

Of his ancient day. 
Thus the great men of the present 

Will in future be. 
Distant like the ancient Homer 

Is with you and me. 



HELL. 

Where is hell, that fearful region, 

Is it distant, is it nigh. 
Is it where the sinners landeth, 

When their mortal bodies die ? 
It is where old Satan dwelloth. 

Dark and dreary everywhere. 
Icicles, large as mill posts, hanging 

From the sheds erected there. 

Hot and blowing, burning, freezing. 

Chained to stakes the demons wail, 
And the damned behold the devil, 

As he proudly cocks his tail. 
Lost in hell the sinners mournetli. 

And the furies vive and swell. 
Storms of smokeand burning brimstone. 

How they have it down in hell. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS, 167 

IN RETUKN. 
Down in the heart there is a wish, 

A longing in the soul, 
Which life may never satisfy 

With earthly pomp and gold. 
And tho' the heart may seek renown, 

The heart may not be blest, 
The restless longing in the heart 

Disturbs the heart from rest. 

I sometimes feel my task is hard, 

And hopes are not secure. 
Yet all the grief the heart may bear 

Proves what it may endure. 
I know my hopes are often vain 

When saddened I may be. 
And feel I've worked for other hearts 

When they've not cared for me. 

When I have served humanity. 

And labored for its part, 
I've felt in sad adversities 

Its cool ungrateful heart. 
I've felt that hearts have served me thus, 

Whose help I've sought to earn, 
And they've refused to obligate 

Or helji me in return. 

Why should my neighbors serve me thus. 

Why should they turn aside 
And hold from me their sympathies. 

They so pretend to hide? 
But soon life's trials will be o'er. 

When 'twill be sweet to learn 
The grief we've born for Heaven's sake. 

Will reap it in return. 



]68 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

I LOVE MY LITTLE LADY. 

I love inj little ladj, 

She's nearest to my breast, 
And she has told me sweetlj 

She loves me truly best ; 
And O, those gentle tellings 

I know they are the truth, 
And she is sweet and lovely 

While blooming in her youth. 

I love my little lady, 

She loves me in return. 
And if there's good in loving 

That good we'll surely learn. 
I feel that love will guide us 

Along the weary way. 
And if our hearts are faithful 

We'll prosper every day. 

I love my little lady, 

And if she'll love me more 
I'll meet her at love's altar. 

And open wide the door. 
And there shall love be cherished, 

All golden bright and new, 
May God be with the lovers 

That love each other true. 

I know that love will cherish 

And brighten up the way, 
And lure the lives of lovers 

To seek love's endless day. 
I know the claims of others 

Are dear unto my breast, 
But God will bless my lover, 

I'll truly love her best. 



ALLEN DORWAN'S POEMS. 

INTERVIEWED. 
A single news reporter 

Called on a lady fair, 
And in her bright new parlor 

He saw her sitting there. 
He met her single-handed, 

He acd the lassie, O, 
And as their wits commanded, 

They loved each other so. 

Her features were so charming, 

Her eyes were lovely bright 
And fresh like gems of Eden, 

That dazzled in the light. 
Oh, he was entertaining, 

And she was truly glad. 
And they got lovely kisses. 

The best they ever had. 

She told that news reporter, 

With a — a— a— a — grin. 
That she was almost ready 

To take some fellow in ; 
That she was on the market, 

And wished the world to know 
Her style of advertising, 

That she might catch a bean 

Said once she had a lover 

And tried to charm him gay, 
And that he popped the question 

But did not pop to stay. 
She said he loved another, 

And she had caught him shy 
Within her neighbor's kitchen, 

A gettin' huggin' pie. 



170 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

She said, she could not stand it, 

With words that would condemn, 
And would not claim or notice, 

Or love the devilish men. 
She scorned him and despised him. 

Grew worse at every breath, 
And waged a rage of thunder. 

And then got up and left. 



IMFROYE YOUR TIME. 
Improve your time my dear young friends, 

Improve your precious youth, 
In after life you U see its need, - 

And realize this truth. 
Improve your time in study now, 

In learning and in thought. 
If time is spent in idleness 

You'll find it dearly bought. 

Improve your time, your precious time, 

In labor, book or pen, 
And njake a scholar of yourself 

And imitate great men. 
Great men were all once young like you. 

They had their pain and grief. 
But used their youth and precious time 

To bring about relief. 

Improve your time, while youth is bright, 

Be earnest and be true, 
Life never knows until it tries 

What it may wisely do. 
So dare to try and do the right, 

Shun evil thoughts and sin, 
Improve your youth and precious time 

And God will help you win. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 171 

IT FAINTLY SHONE. 
One evening, while I sat beneath 

A tall and shady tree, 
I felt the gloomj clouds above 

Brought sadness unto me. 
I felt my heart would almost break 

Within my troubled breast, 
While tliere I sat without a hope 

To cheer and give me rest. 

And while I sat beneath the tree, 

The clouds were moving slow, 
I watched them closely for awhile 

To see how they would go. 
When all at once they sudden broke 

And let the sunshine in. 
It faintly shone but for awhile, 

Then stole where it had been. 

And so young friends, it is with you, 

Life's way is dark and rough, 
And roads that lead to happiness 

Leads over hill and bluff. 
And all along life's dreary way 

Will have some hope and cheer, 
Some gentle word, or loving smile, 

Some beam of sunlight clear. 

There's ne'er a desolation sad. 

Or rough and stony plain, 
But has some evergreen to cheer. 

Some hope to live again. 
And all our plans are transient here. 

As clouds of summer day, 
And life itself is like the clouds 

That move and pass away. 



178 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

I LOATHE. 
I loathe what once was lovely, 

I loathe what once was fair, 
Since hate and sin lias sliadowed 

And turned it from my care. 
Yes, once I loved a maiden, 

With purpose true and kind, 
But time has changed her actions — 

I cannot call her mine. 

I loathe her very actions. 

The same I use to trust, 
I loathe them now as never 

In horror and disgust. 
Her heart was false and cruel, 

And 1 am pleased to know 
I'm free from her forever, 

And I may let her go. 

Her charms and lovely actions 

I've truly claimed so free, 
Have lost their charms and beauties, 

And they are turned from me. 
'Twas once I loved her features 

In pleasure and in truth. 
And yet I hold them sacred 

For what they were in youth. 

But time has changed her actions. 

And she is not the same. 
And love has lost forever 

The charm about lier name. 
I know we part as strangers, 

As each are turned and free. 
For we have loved unwisely, 

Yet she was dear to me. 



ALLEN DORMAN S POExMS. 173 

IMPEKILED YOUTH. 

Ingratitude, ingratitude, 

The world has shown with me, 
And tried to crush youth's manly thoughts 

When hopes were bright and free. 
I've had to light my own way through, 

Discouraged and disowned 
By persons whom I thought my friends, 

Hath left me all alone. 

My heart was broken in my breast, 

My better thoughts were sad, 
And much of golden youth was lost 

When all around was glad. 
I had no friends to cheer my heart. 

No hope to cherish free, 
My heart has mourned in solitude 

When no one cared for me. 

I DREAMT A DREAM. 
I've often needed help and friends 

In sickness and in pain, 
And often felt my lot was hard 

When efforts were in vain. 
Yes, grief has often found my heart 

Without a help on earth. 
Without a friend in times of need 

To tell it of its worth. 

Yes, I have thought my lot would be 

To wander on in grief, 
Without a hope, without a cheer, ' 

To give my heart relief. 
But life is such the heart may mourn 

When neighbors are untrue. 
And when neglected most by them 

May find its pleasures few. 



174 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

I've often had no helping friends, 

My heart's been turned away 
And been discouraged in my work, 

And tempted much to stray. 
And had no hope within my breast, 

No hope to cherish free, 
Each coming Sabbath brought no face 

I sought or cared to see. 

The sun that rose so clear and bright 

In gladness high above, 
It shone for me but failed to bring 

A hope or cherished love. 
I know much time of precious youth 

Has been misspent and sad, 
But had life been encouraged then 

It surely would been glad. 



GAB BLABS. 

You gab blabs and you hypocrits 

Whoever you may be, 
You slander with your serpent tongues 

Most every one you see. 
Your mission is to scatter sin. 

To butcher names and kill. 
And spoil and tear down characters 

That's taken time to build. 

You see no good in other hearts, 

You butcher hearts and names, 
Your wrath and lies are black as hell 

And you delight to blame. 
You demon wretch in human form, 

When at the bar of God, 
The many good names you have killed 

Will speak your own reward. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 175 

IN THE RIGHT. 
However hard jour task may seem, 

Or slow you get along, 
'Tis better to be in the right 

Than flourish in the wrong. 
Yes, stolen gold is stolen pain, 

It stands in fear of grief, 
And gives the mind that awful dread 

That haunts the wretched thief. 

Be in the right and try to live. 

And dare to face defeat, 
And tho' it hurts to do the right 

The hurting will be sweet. 
Be in the right and do the right 

And God will help you live. 
For he is able to protect 

And able to forgive. 

I dreamt a dream one dreary night 

When all was dark and shady. 
And O, it was a funny dream, 

I dreamt I was a lady. 
Though some may think it is not right 

To dream so much we know. 
And think that we could change our signs. 

But certain it was so. 

I thought my dress was very nice. 

And fit me very well. 
And all seemed pleased to think that I 

Was ready for a swell. 
My lips I thought were rosy red 

And like the rubies fine. 
My hair was bound in curly braids, 

Or something of the kind. 



176 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

When all the maidens of the town 

Were claiming lovers true, 
I quickly thought it was my time 

To claim a lover too. 
So I began to look around 

If any I could find, 
And shortly met a pussy one 

Just suited to my mind. 

My Uncle Billy was a man 

Who knew just what to do, 
And he got mariied, by the way, 

So I got married too. 
Methought 1 was the queen of town, 

A fair and charming honey. 
But what astounded me the most 

Was something awful funny. 

It was the prettiest thing on earth, 

And was without a name, 
And all the papers in the state 

Gave notice of the same. 
The last I knew of this my dream, 

To make it brief to tell. 
The doctors left me all alone. 

Said all were doing well. 



GIVE ME LOVE. 
Give me love, pure sacred love, 

With all its hopes and pleasure. 
Sweet maiden's love and heaven's love 

Are man's best gift and treasure. 
Oh, when I die, pray let me die 

The death of lovers sighing, 
The death of love, pure happy love, 

A thousand years a dying. 



ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 177 

I WAS WRONG. 
I was wrong in my opinion, 

I was wrong with tliee, 
Yes, tliis heart it was mistaken, 

When it spoke so free. 
Yes, it was this heart's own blunder, 

And it was untrue, 
'Twas a thoughtless, trivial blunder 

In its deal with you. 

But I know you'll grant it pardon, 

Yes, I do indeed. 
For thy heart is one of mercy 

In a time of need. 
All life's sins however little 

Stain the heart within. 
And they go to make up habits, 

Sin on top of sin. 

Oh, the hearts we have neglected, 

Slighted on life's way, 
Are the dues we owe to others, 

But may never pay. 
God will hear the heart's petition, 

God will cleanse its stain, 
God will see the heart's condition, 

And will heal its pain. 



THE GUARDS. 

The guards that stand and constant watch 

The movements of the foe. 
And stationed to protect some right 

They claim in life below. 
The law is placed within their hands, 

The law of high retards, 
Who passes them must yield to them. 

But who will guard the guards. 



178 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

I'LL CALL HER DARLING. 

Yes, onco I loved a maiden, 

And she m'us pretty too. 
And I would often meet lier, 

And tell her I was true. 
"When first we got acquainted, 

I loved her all the same, 
But soon we had a quarrel, 

And she was most to blame. 

I said I would not love her, 

Until she'd taken back 
The words which made us angry, 

And made us fly the track. 
She said she would not do it. 

And that I was to bhime, 
And that she would not make up. 

And I could do the same. 

And so we quickly parted. 

To stroll it thro' the world. 
But then I loved her truly, 

The best of any girl. 
I did not let her know it, 

That she was dear to me, 
I did not call her darling, 

But claimed that I was free. 

But since she's told another 

And I have heard it all, 
That she most dearly loved me, 

And wished that I would call. 
So I will not refuse her, 

But will be good and tame. 
And I will call her darling. 

And we'll make up again. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 179 

IN YOUR WAY. 

Now if yoii have a task to do, 

And think that it will pay, 
You'd better than not try at all 

To try it in your way. 
Yes, try to act and dare to try, 

And work with all yonr might, 
Th(>ugh other hearts may not approve, 

But do your duty right. 

Plowever frail your task may seem, 

Ennoble it with pride; 
'Tis not the task, but how it's done, 

That wins men on your side. 
And if you have a life to live 

Don't heed some worldly sway, 
For if you would be satisfied. 

Best live it in your way. 



I LOYED A GIRL. 
I loved a girl, a pretty girl, 

And thought I'd love no other. 
But when I found she was engaged 

I thought I'd love no further. 
I tried to rue, but I was beat. 

When found I could not get her, 
I felt as if I was ashamed 

And should have known quite better. 

I should have known, but did not know, 

That maidens' hearts are leather. 
And may be turned both in and out 

On trades that stick forever. 
But then they trade, they sometimes do, 

And fix it up so neatly, 
-That you W(Mild think it awful nice 

To trade with maiden sweetly. 



18Q.. ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

I TKIED. 
Though my heart may be rejected 

By the hearts relied upon, 
I will try to do my duty 

Till life's fleeting days are gone. 
That I may with friend and neiglibor, 

In the harvest field so wide, 
Show to them by earnest dealings 

That I labored and I tried. 

Guided by the praise of Heaven, 

As it teaches where to go, 
I will struggle, I will labor 

In the harvest field below. 
I will trust in God, my Savior, 

And I'll battle at His side, 
Giving Him the praise and glory 

Of the gains where I have tried. 

If I labor, truly labor, 

A reward will surely come, 
And for me as consolation 

I may see my duty done. 
If I struggle, if I labor, 

Seeking duty as a guide, 
In the end 'twill be a blessing 

If I know that I have tried. 

Should my lot be peace and comfort, 

Sliould my heart enjoy the same. 
Life may show they have been treasured 

By the toils of constant gain. 
Not in pleasures do we find them. 

Not in sins of heedless pride. 
But we see that hearts have gained them 

Where the faithful ones have tried. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 181 

But should life have grief and sorrow, 

Burdened with them every day, 
If wo hibor we may rue them 

And remove them all away. 
Should I fail in time of peril, 

When I need a help and guide, 
In the end, though I am conquered, 

'Twill be worthy that I tried. 

Soon, yes soon, life may be ended, 

And its labors shall be o'er, 
And tlie soul be wafted over 

To one far eternal shore. 
When the soul shall meet its Savior, 

May it then no troubles hide, 
Should the Savior see my failings 

May I show him that I tried. 



INTENTIONS. 

Intentions, be thoy good or bad, 

Are motives in the mind, 
And actions to be carried out 

In purpose or design. 
Awakening thoughts of need or want, 

Incentives of the heart. 
To think, to plan, to wish, to hope 

May come and may depart. 

Intentions good, intentions bad, 

Intentions full of sin, 
Intentions lost, and what they cost. 

And what they might have been. 
Intentions sometimes come and go. 

And scarce impress the mind, 
So let us use intentions wise 

When we intentions find. 



182 ALLEN DORMAN'S TOEMS. 

TLL BET. 

I'll bet a silver dollar 

I love my pretty girl, 
For she is fair and lovely, 

The sweetest in the world. 
I know I love her dearest, 

Her name is sweet to call, 
Among a score of lovers 

My lady beats them all. 

I know I'd win in betting 

About my little maid, 
Because I love her dearest, 

And hope that we will trade. 
You all should see my lady 

So beautiful and gay, 
She is so sweet and lovely, 

I love her all the day. 

If you love pretty niaidens. 

Just love them all you will. 
But then with me my maiden 

So nice adjusts the bill. 
But then to be in earnest, 

Aside from any fun, 
I tell you that I love her 

The best of any one. 

You talk about my betting. 

And think it's naughty quite. 
And say that all the preachers 

Will claim it is not right. 
So then I'll change my betting, 

And show to all the world 
I'll compromise by loving 

My pretty little girl. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 183 

IN THE LIGHTS. 
In the lights of golden sunshine, 

In the lights of hope and truth, 
Seeking for a destination 

Is the heart in early youth. 
Seek we then the golden harvest, 

And a life of song and praise. 
As we journey looking forward 

in the lights of golden days. 

If we live for right and duty, 

Hope will cheer us on the way, 
Peace and praise will be our portion 

As we journey day by day. 
Love and treasure will reward us 

For life's work in many ways, 
If the heart is true in duty, 

Toiling on thro' golden days. 

Oh, to God, the God of heaven, 

Perfect in his law of love, 
Perfect in his laws of nature, 

And the golden day above. 
Sacred youth is tilled with blessings, 

And we see them in the rays 
Of the lights while looking backward, 

Through the lights of golden days. 

True this life has varied blessings, 

Many blessings life has known. 
And we cherish those of childhood. 

Truly blessings once our own. 
But the future has a promise, 

We shall know it by and by. 
And shall reap it as our portion 

In the golden day on high. 



184 ALLEN DORM AN S POEMS. 

IN PAIN WE PART. 

In pain we part and say good-bje, 

In pain we sadly part, 
You go to live far, far away, 

And absent from my heart. 
I know when morning's sun shall rise 

You will be far away, 
Yet, I am sad that you must leave. 

For I would have you stay. 

This heart is sad that you must go, 

That you must take your leave, 
It feels it cannot now return 

Your good it has received. 
Your heart has been my dearest friend 

In pleasure and in pain, 
And on the mission that you go 

May never meet again. 

We'll promise now as faithful friends 

That we will often write. 
And try to cheer each other's life 

And make it clear and bright. 
'Tis in thy leave I lose a friend, 

A faithful friend indeed, 
A friend to this my humble heart, 

A worthy friend in need. 

I know there's changes in one's life, 

And changes in the heart. 
And this a sad eventful one 

That we to-night must part. 
And though we may not meet again 

As in the days of yore. 
We'll hope to meet in heaven bright 

Where partings are no more. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 18S 

IMMORTAL MEN. 
You talk of great illustrious men, 

And men who cannot die, 
Ihey most were men who labored hard, 

And truly dared to try. 
Yes, they were men of useful deeds, 

Who with their humble names 
Have stamped them with immortal ink 

Upon the works of fame. 

Their deeds are known, their works will stay 

Their labors may not fade, 
'Twas by the good deeds they have done 

We term them as self-made. 
So let us try and raise our deeds 

Beneath so bright a sun, 
As deeds must live that cannot die 

For good or bad to come. 

Oh, think of names, immortal names, 

To live for time untold, 
And shine so bright in history 

Beyond the price of gold. 
The men whose names are monuments 

To stand thro' war and peace. 
Through ages and through centuries 

To live and never cease. 

The men whose deeds hath blest the world, 

Who labored for the right, 
And did their duty in their way 

And conquered in the fight. 
They worked with mind, with deed and 
thought. 

And labored with the pen, 
And when they pass beyond this life 

Their works will follow them. 



186 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

I KEMEMBERED. 
I met a friend, a ladj friend, 

A friend Td known before. 
She was a true and worthy friend 

I'd known in dajs of yore. 
And she was then polite to me, 

Was kind and friendly too, 
And acted as a worthy friend 

Whose motives then were true. 

I rather wondered why she came 

So friendly and so free, 
And tJiought I'd ask her to explain 

And tell it all to me. 
She did not wait for me to ask 

But up and told it all. 
And spoke of one deed I had done 

When we were young and small. 

She spoke of deeds in days gone by, 

One true and worthy deed 
Was brought to me in memory 

Just at a time of need. 
She spoke of things that I had done, 

A friendly deed of good 
Was treasured in her memory, 

As worthy actions should. 

And thus it is with you, dear friends, 

The deeds that you have done 
Are monuments in memory 

For good or bad to come. 
So let ua live a worthy life, 

And do what good we may, 
That good deeds done for memory 

May not be thrown away. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 187 

1 LOYED THEE. 
Oh, to this heart thou hast been dear, 

You've fondly lingered nigh, 
I thought you never w^ould betray, 

I loved thee, but good-bye. 
It may be vain to keep thy name, 

Or live as I have lived, 
Through sorrow and through sufferings, 

When thou hast naught to give. 

I loved thee in thy early youth, 

And fondly thought of thee, 
I truly sought to claim thy heart, 

For it was dear to me. 
I love thee, when we often met 

In early days of yore, 
And never dreamt of what would come, 

That we would meet no more. 

But as it is I say good-bye, 

And hope that thou art blest. 
I loved thee in the long-gone by, 

I loved thee truly best. 
I loved thee as no tongue can tell, 

I loved thy bosom dear, 
I loved thee as my only hope, 

Of happiness and cheer. 

I loved thee, but to no avail, 

I loved and worshipped thee. 
Yet all that memory has in store 

Is left with you and me. 
I loved thee, but life's brightest hopes 

"Were spurned and lost in youth. 
And all the heart can term as life 

Will testify this truth. 



188 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

INFLICTIONS. 
It makes me sad, it gives me pain 

To think what life has been, 
And see how cruel foes may be, 

And how they've chose to sin. 
The bitter grief that makes me sad 

And makes me suffer so 
Was brought about by cruel hearts 

That proved to be my foe. 

My heart is sad, O, very sad, 

I know I'm sad indeed, 
I know my heart it suffers now, 

In peril and in need. 
I sometimes think that I am free. 

But then my thoughts are vain, 
For when I tliink my troubles o'er, 

They sadly give me pain. 

I often try to free my breast. 

And do my duty right, 
But then my grief as often comes, 

Dark as the clouds of night. 
I often weep in solitude, 

And wish that I was free 
From other hearts' ingratitude, 

And. what they've done for me. 

It makes me feel that life is vain, 

"When others are untrue, 
And when they seek to censure me 

For honest deeds I do. 
But I will try and do the right, 

And make my bosom free. 
And kindly act with other hearts 

As others should with me. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 189 

I WOULD LIVE ALWAYS. 
I know my brethren sometimes sing, 

"I would not live always," 
And stay from yon bright heaven, 

That home of joy and praise. 
That heavenly home, that city fair, 

Which often seemethnigh, 
We fainly sing that we would go, 

But yet we fear to die. 

Oh, surely, speaking for myself. 

If life had endless days, 
If life could be as life has been. 

Yes, I would live always. 
And tho' my heart may feel depressed 

With bitter sorrows deep, 
Yet life has praise, in many ways. 

Though often is asleep. 

Oh, think of life with all its worth, 

Its duty and its praise. 
Its pleasures of prosperity, 

Its golden, sunny days. 
Its cheerful songs and gladdened hearts, 

Its pleasures to forgive, 
Its sweetness of futurity. 

Oh, let me always live. 

And with belief or unbelief. 

Of what our death may be, 
And varied doubts of Deity 

Are sometimes doubts with me. 
If I must die, then let me die, 

And rue all earthly ties, 
And welcome death's sad mysteries 

If there's no compromise. 



190 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

IT BLEW. 

Two gallants were out hunting, 

And rode together nigh, 
'Twas on a stormy evening, 

The wind was very high. 
It blew and blew with fury, 

They rode together slow, 
The wind was in a hurry, 

From way it seemed to blow. 

It blew and blew, O women, 

With thunderbolts and hail. 
The men they stopped to counsel 

About the awful gale. 
It blew and blew romantic, 

Tho' nature sought to go, 
And 'waken up the question 

With such an awful blow. 



m THE DISTANCE. 
In the great and far-off distance 

Stands the city of the soul. 
And through faith we see it dimly 

Shining as of one of gold. 
'Tis life's liope and 'tis life's promise, 

'Tis a fadeless world of light, 
Stationed far-off in the distance. 

Far beyond the clouds of night. 

Deatli is unknown in that city, 

Life is one eternal day, 
And the soul it is immortal, 

In its hapfiy home to stay. 
'Tis the pilgrim's destination, 

"Tis the Christian's sweet reward, 
'Tis the work of God's perfection, 

'Tis for those who serve the Lord. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. .91 

INDEED. 

A critic once sat in his chair 

With grim look on his face, 
And criticised an author's book, 

Indeed much out of place. 
He censured author and his work 

With ridicule and blame, 
And criticised in ])roud disgust 

The contents of the same. 

Another person standing nigh 

To critic, now indeed, 
" Where's the book that youVe written 

That other heaits may read. 
Wliere are the pages you've written. 

Or efibi'ts you have done 
To make the world a better workl?" 

Poor critic he had none. 



IN THE WOKLD. 
I'm in the worhl, how came I here 

Amid life's care and pain '{ 
What have I now I call my <. wn 

With this my mortal framed 
Oh, has my heart an inner soul. 

Who gave it unto me, 
Who made my person as it is, 

With eyes that I may see ? 

I'm in the world, who placed me here, 

With person, mind and will, 
Midst life and death, and right and wrong 

With purpose to fulfil. 
The hills and trees, the land and seas, 

And stai-s by some command, 
Proclaim to me there is a God 

Conditioned as I am. 



192 ^LLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 

JUSTICE. 

Justice due and justice comiug, 

Justice had and sought, 
Justice is a theme that's proper, 

"When its proper taught. 
Justice, justice, coming justice, 

In the proper way, 
Is a law of heaven's system 

Written there to stay. 

Justice, yes, immortal justice. 

Certain in its cause, 
Comes at last, and from the fountain 

Of all perfect laws. 
God is justice and wo need Him 

Every day we live, 
And the justice of our portion 

He alone can give. 



JAILED. 

One time I passed the prison cell 

As three young men were jailed, 
They had been stealing property, 

But they had justly failed. 
All three were in their prime of life. 

Were healthy, stout and bold, 
But sin had led their hearts astray 

And left them in its cold. 

They all walked in the prison cell, 

Slam went the iron door, 
As if to teach them seriously 

That they should sin no more. 
It is a strange and serious thought, 

That stout men fill our jails. 
And venture boldly into crime 

And ask for help and bail. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. l93 

JUST A DREAM. 
I dreamt a dream, a little dream, 

Of those I loved the best, 
And in my dream I dreamt of one 

More sacred than the rest. 
I dreamt of one I'd often met 

In bright and happy days, [thoughts 
And brought to mind the cherished 

Of youth's past love and praise. 

Could I repeat my little dream 

rd dream it o'er and o'er. 
And in the end would surely think 

'Twas sweeter than before. 
Though time may sadly change the heart 

From what it now may seem. 
Yet I will long remember this. 

My sweet and pleasant dream. 



JAKE AND JUNE. 
Jake and June got married up. 

And all went well and funny. 
Until they found it awful hard 

In living without money. 
To try to live on wedded bliss 

Indeed was quite a blunder- 
Bound up and hitched both man and wife, 

They were indeed, by thunder. 

The case with them was hard to solve, 

In real life and living. 
Yet God who makes the poor man rich 

Is watchful and forgiving. 
Tho' doctors preach and doctors pray, 

The Lord takes care of fools. 
And real life and real love 

Beat all the other schools. 



104 ALLEN DOHMAN'S POEMg. 

JUST THE KEASON. 
I love to cheer my lover, 

And ])reach right unto her 
The doctrines that are sacred, 

Of sweetest love and clieer. 
Oh, yes, she dearly loves me, 

For she has told me so, 
And that is just the reason 

I truly ought to know. 

'Tis sacred consolation 

To have her love me true, 
And that is just the reason 

That love is always new. 
Yes, that is just the reason, 

A valid reason why 
This heart is free and happy 

Whenever she is nigh. 



JOHN S. LINDSEY. 

I>f MEMORTAM. 

Another friend and schoolmate 

Has passed from earth away. 
To join with the departed 

In that eternal day. 
His heart was doomed with sickness. 

His stay untimely brief. 
Till death came to his rescue 

And summoned his release. 

His life it was a model. 

That other liearts could see, 
And live by his example 

For all eternity. 
Death teaches life is wasting. 

It falls like forest leaves, 
And reaps for heaven's harvest 

Our labors as its sheaves. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS 195 

JANE S. HANCOCK. 

TO MY AGED GRANDMOTHEK. 
IN MEMORIAM. 

Oh, chilling; death, how cold it seems, 

How dark its forms appear, 
The law that brings death unto earth 

Brings life with all its cheer. 
We cannot tell from whence it comes 

Or who must wait its call, 
We only know that death must come. 

Its doom is fixed with all. 

Its certain with the young and old, 

And with the rich and poor, 
It is the reaper of the soul. 

Its doings all are sure. 
We see its work when friends depart, 

And feel that it is nigh, 
We fear it in the dreads of life. 

It is when we must die. 

Death comes and we must wait its call, 

It claims the heart its own. 
It bears the soul unseen away 

To its immortal home. 
And it has called my aged friend, 

My mother's mother true. 
Its called her from this dying world 

To one forever new. 

She was my friend in early youth, 

The Bible was her guide. 
She workeil for poor humanity, 

She labored and she tried; 
She served her mission here on earth, 

Her hands were free to lend, 



196 ALLEN DORM A MS POEMS. 

The poor and weary found in her 
A Christian and a friend. 

Her spirit's past beyond this life — 

Went at its Savior's call; . 
The scenes of death she witnessed here 

Are witnessed here by all. 
She's passed into the great beyond 

Through frightfrd death that burns, 
And into that eternity 

From whence no heart returns. 

She's left me hei'e in this sad w-orld, 

I feel I am alone, 
She's left me where my heart is tried 

In caring for its own. 
And where my iieart grows weak from toil, 

And weary with its cares, 
And where I need as my support 
I Her presence and her prayers. 

Oh, yes, its true that friends must part 

In this sad world of sin, 
And leave behind no lasting trace 

Of what this life has been. 
And thus indeed it was with her, 

Her heart was kind and true. 
Her heart was one of worthy deeds 

Which only Christians do. 

She gave to me with true respect 

Her Bible as my own. 
And I have often read it since 

While sitting all alone. 
I've read its pages o'er and o'er. 

Through many a silent tear. 
And felt the lessons taught to me, 

The same were tauo-ht to her. 



ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 197 

But all of life is fleeting fast, 

And all we do and say 
Are drifting with the tide of time 

Like clouds that Hoat away. 
And all we see and all we know, 

And all we claim as true, 
Are swiftly passing in this life 

As nature bids them do. 

The grief that fills the aching heart 

When troubled and alone. 
May make it mindful of the Lord 

Who seeks us as his own. 
01), while we live the heart may weep 

In sorrow and in pain, 
And often feel when we are sad 

Our efforts are in vain. 

May feel we have no worthy work, 

No good we may perform, 
No deeds of kindness and of love, 

No sins we may reform. 
And yet, our lives are prone to such, 

The grief and pain we bear 
Are true essentials of this life 

For blessings to prepare. 

Oh yes, the worthy and the true. 

The useful and the just 
Must perish like all living things 

That's wrapped in mortal dust. 
This fleeting life must ebb away 

Where death shall be no more. 
And leave the spirit with its work 

For time's eternal shore. 



198 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

JOH]^ A. LOGAN. 
John A. Logan, John A. Logan, 

Peer of manly thoughts witliin. 
Yes, a true and worthy statesman 

With a lieart that tried to win. 
With a heart and will to conquer, 

With a nerve to over-come, 
Fought he gallant through life's battles 

All beneath an azure sun. 

All great men are not good men, 

Yet, the good and great forgive, 
And their lives may prompt in others 

How to go and likewise live. 
Yes, great lives are lives of honor, 

On their stages grand and high, 
So in strides of emulation 

Let us labor, let us try. 



JOHN ADAMS. 
'Tis much to be a statesman, 

Or ruler of the land, 
And much to be a president, 

But more to be a man. 
The famous may be worthy, 

And make their actions bright, 
And wisely rule a nation 

In wisdom and in right. 

And thus with Mr. Adams, 

He wended his own way 
Up to be a president, 

And power of his day. 
He taught by his example. 

In rank and liigh estate, 
That young men may be useful 

And worthy, good and great. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 199 

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 
It 'wakens in the bosom, 

"The thoughts we may befriend, 
To hear of deeds and merits 
Of great and worthy men. 
Yes, men who do tlieir duty 

While all around is bright, 
And build up home and country, 
And labor for the right. 

The men who reach the stations 

Of honor and of fame, 
May show by their example 

What others may attain. 
May prompt in other bosoms 

The noble deeds that stay, 
And thus revive their manhood 

Before it ebbs away. 



JAMES MADISON. 
All great and worthy persons 

Of real note and worth, 
Have as a rule ascended 

From low and humble births; 
Have had to toil unaided 

For what they have attained. 
And worked their own way upward 

To eminence and fame. 

And thus it is with great men. 

The worthy and the tried, 
The world hath in them confidence. 

And honor them with pride. 
And thus the great and worthy. 

Who wend their way up high, 
May teach by their example 

'Tis honorable to try. 



200 ALLEN DOHMANS POEMS. 

JOHN I. BLAIR. 
John I. Blair, the millionaire, 

A wealthy railroad man, 
He built the Baily railroad. 

And raised the price of land. 
He toils in railroad dealings, 

And interests on loans, 
And keeps him busy working 

With property he owns. 

It looks like thrift and business 

When wealthy men arise, 
And wisely boom the country 

With hope and enterprise. 
Oh, how I'd like to travel. 

And rich, like Mr. Blair, 
And ride upon the railroads, 

And with my honey fair. 



JAMES MONBOE. 
James Monroe, once president 

Of this United States, 
Was once an humble person, 

Till toiling made him great. 
'Twas through his manly efforts 

He wended his way high, 
And found beyond life's battles 

That victory was nigh. 

And thus it was in trying 

And doing for the best, 
And working out life's mission, 

That life is duly blest. 
Yes, life will find in season, 

If living for the right, 
That just beyond life's darkness 

Comes spacious morning bright. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 301 

JOim TAYLOR 

All great and worthy persons 

Who sway the hearts of men, 
May teach by their example, 

'Tis worthy to befriend. 
'Tis worthy to be faithful 

And labor day by day, 
And prompt in hearts around us 

To live a nobler way. 

And thus with Mr. Taylor, 

Whose life was wisely spent, 
And gained, while manly living. 

The throne of piesident. 
Beyond the gloomy perils 

Of striving for the right. 
And high upon its altar 

Stands victory bright. 



JAMES K. POLK. 

The stars that shine above us 

So steady and so high. 
Are symbols of life's stations, 

For which the heart may try. 
And lives of worthy pci'sons, 

They shine like stars of light 
Out in a world of darkness. 

As monuments of right. 

On life's dark stormy ocean. 

Where restless billows roar, 
Great names are glowing beacons, 

Of safety's welcomed shore. 
Somehearts who reach the stations 

Of honor and of praise, 
Were once unknown and humble, 

Back in their early days. 



gOS ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

JAMES BUCHANxiN. 

Thoughts of great men often cheer us 

When their deeds are brought to mind, 
For we seek to know their action, 

That we may good motives find. 
Every heart should have a purpose, 

Ever knowing what to do, 
Ever toiling on and upward, 

Like the noble and the true. 

Thus in striving to be useful. 

Like the worthy and the great, 
May attain some honored station 

In the high affairs of state. 
'Tis in striving to be useful, 

And in striving to be good. 
That the heart in life may conquer 

With its purpose, as it should. 



JAMES G. BLAINE. 
Of many noted statesmen 

Who reach the heights of fame, 
There's few perhaps more worthy 

Than Mr. James G. Blaine, 
He's labored for his nation, 

And served it well and true. 
And swayed the hearts of many, 

As only great men do. 

His name will stand for ages, 

As one great burning light 
That sheds its rays of glory 

Out in a world of night. 
Oh, to the hearts of merit 

We owe a debt of praise. 
The hearts whose lives are models 

Of great and manly ways. 



ALLEN DORxMAN'S POEMS. r.03 

J. GOULD. 

J, Gould, a railroad magnate, 

Now in the rising west, 
He owns, controls and freezes 

In schemes of railroads best. 
He strides in competitions, 

And has it up and down, 
And reigns in railroad circles, 

The busy world around. 

JOHN MORGAN. 
John Morgan was a soldier, 

A warrior true and tried. 
Who fought with main and valor 

Upon the Southern side. 
He was to me related, 

A man of solid wit, 
And that's perhaps the reason 

He made the Yankees "git." 

JOHN MILTON. 

The distant stars above us 

That shine with glowing light, 
Would never show their lustre, 

If 'twas not for the night. 
And thus great men of merit. 

Their lives would never shine, 
If 'twas not for the darkness 

Within the public mind. 

Great men of all the ages 

Have labored for their fame. 
And helped the world with blessings 

That it may know the same. 
They've fought to win life's battles. 

And labored to befriend. 
And built their claims of honor 

Within the hearts of men. 



804 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

JOSEPH H. PATTERSON. 

COLORED. 
IN MEMORIAM. 

The unknown may be worthy, 

Like purest gems of earth, 
May slumber deep in silence 

As undiscovered worth. 
Yet God knows well their merit. 

And claims them as his own, 
To reign with him forever. 

Where they'll be better known. 



JESUS. 



Jesus, Lord of man's condition, 

Help for every care. 
Hears the heart in its contrition 

When it bows in prayer. 
Jesus, son of God eternal. 

Human and divine. 
Gem and jewel, bright and vernal 

On the shores of time. 



THE CALL OF ANGELS. 

Sometimes 'mid scenes of visions clear. 

When sad the heart may be, 
The thoughts of angels have appeared 

So very nigh and free. 
They seem they would, yet seem to drcc-J 

To live this life again, 
And we shall know when we are dead 

If thus such calls are vaiu. 



ALLEN DORIVK^N'S POEMS. 206 

KEPT TRUE. 
I know I try to please my girl 

And have her love me true, 
But then she often vainly acts 

In spite of all I do. 
And tho' I try to do my part 

And love her all I can, 
She sometimes acts the infidel, 

And loves another man. 

At times she seems to act all right, 

And I can rest at ease, 
And other times she turns away 

As if she is displeased. 
And thus you see she stirs me up 

To thinking what to do, 
To see that she must love me best, 

And see that she's kept true. 

KINDNESS. 
How sweet to reap the kindness 

Of those we love so dear, 
And those who dearly love us 

Speak gentle words of cheer. 
It makes the heart feel better. 

And makes its burdens light, 
As pilgrims on life's journey, 

It makes our journey bright. 

Yes, kindness, gentle kindness. 

Will free the heart from pain. 
And give life hope and courage, 

To ornament its name. 
So spare not deeds of kindness 

In all we do and say. 
As those who reap our kindness 

Have kindness to repay. 



200 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LILLIE. 

I love the name of Lillie, 

For she is dear to me, 
Her looks so fair and charming 

Are lovely as can be. 
I know her charms are pretty, 

And blooming bright and gay, 
Her heart so free and friendly 

Is cheerful every day. 

She has a heart so gentle, 

So thoughtful what to do. 
So full of hope and pleasure. 

So friendly and so true. 
Oh, who would rue fair maiden, 

When she is true and nigh. 
And blight her gentle praises 

And have her mourn and sigh. 

Miss Lillie's heart is worthy, 

So friendly and so gay. 
And all her charms and beauties 

Are blooming every day. 
Oh, yes, it is an honor. 

And pleasant as can be. 
To know those charms so lovely 

Are blooming all for me. 

Yet maiden with her beauties, 

So bidding to adore. 
Must fade, alas, forever. 

And die to bloom no more. 
Yes, life in all its glory. 

And all that's bright and gay, 
May have their time to flourish, 

And likewise pass away. 



ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 207 

KINDRED SCENES. 
Far back in early childhood, 

'Mid scenes of youth and praise, 
The heart turns back so often 

To those bright sunny days. 
Like scenes of kindred pleasure, 

They often do return, 
Its rambles through the forest, 

For which the heart may yearn. 

The scenes of crowds of people. 

The wagons in the lane, 
And changes of a life-time 

So often come again. 
When old age is our portion. 

And life is nearly done, 
Tlien faith may solve the problem 

Of kindred scenes to come. 



KIND WORDS. 

Kind words, we love to hear them, 

And deeds of kindness see. 
They brighten up life's journey, 

And make the bosom free. 
Yes, cares are all made lighter, 

And friends we often meet, 
Their faces are made brighter 

When kind words come so sweet. 

Kind words and gentle praises. 

Oh, let them be my part, 
Like songs of cheerful gladness 

Are sacred to the heart. 
And God will truly hear us. 

The gentle words we say, 
And he will likewise cheer us 

With blessings in repay. 



308 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

LONGING TO MEET THEE. 
Longing to meet thee, fair one of earth, 
Longing to greet tliee, good one of worth, 
Longing to see thee, pride of this heart, 
Hoping to trust thee, never to part. 
Seeking thy praises, truly and free. 
Welcome, sweet welcome, love waits for 

tliee, 
Fair as of Heaven, under the sun, 
For thee I'll tarry, beautiful one. 

Waiting and longing, lonely to-night, 
Seeking to witness thy features bright, 
Thy heart 1 cherish, for it I'll sigh, 
And know thy favors of days gone by. 
Thy name is honor, thy bosom is praise, 
God hasten the dawn of love's bright days, 
Help the true lovers, fair angels above. 
And save them sweetly, for God's own love. 

LOVE'S TKUE HOPE. 

Love's true hope is dreaming 

Of better days to come. 
Where it shall dwell in safety 

Beneath a prosperous sun. 
Where all around is pleasant, 

Far in the future bright. 
And seeming to come sweetly 

With pleasure and delight. 

Love's true hope is welcome. 

It cheers the aching breast. 
And when the heart is lonely 

It is a welcome guest. 
Oh welcome, yes, thrice welcome, 

Is love's true hope with me. 
For it is linked with Heaven 

Through all eternity. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 309 

LOST MEN. 
Lost men, indeed, forever lost, 

Are those who cannot live. 
In hope of life beyond this life 

Eternity may give. 
Their fate is sealed by their ovi^n hands, 

Their doom is death and shame. 
They failed to win eternal life, 

Their purpose was to gain. 

The soul was lost, the doom was sealed, 

And sealed by their own deeds, 
They wrought the darts that ruined them, 

The darts of sinful seeds. 
They chose their sins, and nourished them 

Within their natures deep, 
And death came on with silent steps. 

And found their hearts asleep, 

LITTLE Br LITTLE. 

Little by little and one by one, 
The raindrops fall when showers come. 
Little by little the snowHakes fall, 
And cover plains and mountains tall. 
Little by little life's time goes by, 
And clocks tick, tick, as moments fly. 
Little by little our days are spent 
Living a life of some intent. 

Little by little the grass it grows. 
Little by little the flowerets blow. 
Little by little our heads turn gray 
As types of shades that pass away. 
Little by little our deeds are done. 
Life's books are wrote, and battles won, 
Little by little we live and see. 
Luring for eternity. 



810 A M.E.N DOliMAN'S POEMS. 

LET ME DREAM. 

Let me dream of maiden, 

Gentle, true and neat, 
How she smiles with pleasure, 

With her charms so sweet. 
Let me think, and fondly. 

Of her charms and praise, 
They will make me better 

Through life's dreary days. 

Let me dream of lassie, 

And the charms she wore. 
The thought is one of pleasure 

As I think it o'er. 
It is sweet contentment. 

And the thought is new, 
For it lulls my longings 

When I know she's true. 



LORD BYRON. 

The great men and the useful 

Are known by what they do, 
Who had in life a purpose. 

And served it well and true. 
Whatever may be questioned 

About their trivial ways. 
Their efforts and their labors 

Are monuments of praise. 

We know them by their labors, 

As fruitful trees are known. 
And should ascribe them honors 

They've earned and duly own. 
They stand like stars of glory. 

Because their lives are bright, 
And thus we see their labors 

That glow with merit's light. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 211 

LABOR. 

Hearts who labor and in earnest, 

While life's ebbing swift away, 
They may conquer o'er the trials 

That they meet with every day. 
Let ns face life's raging battle, 

Let us conquer in the fight. 
Let us work for truth and honor, 

Let us do our duty right. 

Let us rue all thoughts of failing, 

We have work that should be done, 
If we conquer, life must labor. 

And beneath a sultry sun. 
Labor paves the road to fortune. 

And it guides on up to fame, 
Labor is the will of Heaven 

And it bears a worthy name. 

Labor stands upon its merits. 

Strengthened by its own defense, 
Bearing good for self and others, 

Finds for self a recompense. 
Let the poor man do his duty. 

Let the weary not complain. 
Labor wrought by rich or lowly 

Is to Heaven all the same. 

Labor is no vain ambition. 

If we labor over sin. 
Toiling with enthusiasm, 

God will wisely help us win. 
Labor is life's highest duty, 

Love and hope is labor's song, 
If we serve them, tliey will bless us 

While we live and labor on. 



S13 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LOST AND KUINED. 

Lost and ruined, lost and ruined, 

Hopes have fled forever now, 
For this heart is nigli to broken, 

It has lost fair maiden's vow. 
Lost, yes, sadly lost forever, 

She has left me all alone. 
She has filled this heait with sorrow. 

She has caused this heart to mourn. 

Lost and ruined, I am ruined. 

Yes, this heart is turned away, 
It is lost, despised, forsakened, 

It is lost and turned to stay. 
Farewell, farewell, one so lovely, 

All that life has ever been 
Is discarded and repulsive 

With this broken heart within. 

Lost and ruined, and forsakened, 

Lost from one I claimed my own, 
Lost forever and forever. 

Lost to wander all alone. 
Lost from one IVe fondly cherished 

All my hopes are at an end, 
Nevermore to meet as lovers, 

Nor perhaps to meet as friends. 

Youth has come and youth has ended, 

Golden days have come and flown, 
And our hearts have witnessed pleasures 

Once we cherished as our own. 
But we part and now forever, 

Nevermore to meet again. 
While we journey from each other 

And this heart is filled with pain. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 213 

Oil, 1 trusted thee, fair Katie, 

Trusted thee and only thee, 
Sought thy heart with hope and pleasure, 

When our hearts were young and free. 
But we part, alas, forever, 

Never, never, more to meet, 
While life's hopes are sadly failing 

With the heart on its retreat. 

Oft my heart has failed in duty, 

And beneath some weight of care, 
Failed with loss and dit-appointinent, 

Terminating in desj^air. 
Trouble, sickness, grief and sorrow, 

Pain and anguish in the breast. 
Sorrowful and discontented. 

Living ever in distress. 

Oft I've wandered thro' the forest, 

As in early days of yore. 
Seeking for new hopes and pleasures 

Youth had witnessed there before. 
But the hope that once was cherished 

Had subsided in my breast. 
And my heart was discontented, 

And it sought in vain for rest. 

In my pain and in my sorrow. 

Worn and weary, day and night 
Have I wandered without pleasure, 

Once I cherished with delight. 
Oh, the pain that's tried this bosom, 

And ensnared a bleeding wound. 
Stole within when hopes were brightest, 

And the sun was all around. 



Sa.4 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

Thus the heart grows faint and weary, 

Ever striving on in vain, 
Seeking for the consolation 

It would cherish and retain. 
But in thinking of the pleasures 

Life has loved in early days, 
May revive some faint ambition 

In some fleeting thought of praise. 

But the heart is foiled in purpose, 

When it learns the bitter truth. 
That its wounded with the arrow 

It luid cherished so in youth. 
Like the rose of early summer, 

In its hope of blooming bright, 
Culled with hand and dropped to wither 

Left to dread the coming night. 

Oh, my hopes were never brighter. 

Never cherished more with song, 
Never sought with better purpose, 

Never blighted more with wrong. 
Cruel, cruel in its nature. 

To betray the confidence, 
And to rue it off forever 

Time alone can recompense. 

But the heart is prone to error, 

And its nature is to sin, 
As desire without purpose. 

When it sees it cannot win. 
And the bosom is the victim 

When we bid the sin depart, 
It is troubled in its nature 

And Js restless in the heart. 



Allen doeman's poems. 215 

Sins we do are sins of danger, 

Sins we reap and sins we sow 
In the field of life's bard battles, 

Often it is self that's foe. 
Love and hope will lure together 

In our natures as their home, 
Yet the heart when it is broken, 

Droops to sutler and to mourn. 

If we sow the seeds of sorrow, 

Tho' unconscious of the blame 
Bitter grief may be our portion, 

As we truly reap the same. 
Rea]) the sin with its production, 

Witli its loss and with its woe. 
Bitter sins in times of trouble 

Are the sins we often sow. 

And we sow for those around us. 

In tlieir loss and in their gain, 
As the heart, its brother's keeper. 

Truly, truly reaps the same. 
All the blessings we enjoy, 

And the sorrows when we sigh. 
Are related to some other 

Who is ever dwelling nigh. 

Thus we all should do our duty. 

Ever striving for the best. 
Ever helping those around us, 

Ever seeking to be blest. 
In life's loss and in its trouble. 

In its labor and its care, 
There is some one ever watching, 

And may ready with us share. 



§16 ALLEN BORMaN'S POEMS. 

Thougli this heart is now deserted, 

Full of agonizing pain, 
Yet the h)ss that it lias suffered 

May not prove to be in vain. 
Though 1 sufier in my peril, 

And I'm troubled day by day. 
Yet I'll hope for other blessings, 

And I'll seek a better way. 

Life with rae is now a burden, 

And its troubled way is sad. 
Full of sorrow, gloom and darkness, 

And its bitter cup is bad. 
But I'll labor with my duty, 

Through my sorrow and my pain, 
With a vow I'm independent, 

And I'll hope to live again. 



LOVE CONSOLED. 

We'll let ill-feelings now subside, 

And live as friends forever, 
And think of pleasures quite the same 

That time alone may sever. 
And do our duty while we live, 

And time will tell the story 
That all is best, that happens best, 

In trouble or in glory. 

We'll hold the past for what it was, 

As sacred, each together. 
And you remain in holy twain, 

And I'll splice with another. 
And let our actions be the right. 

As seeds we sow we gather. 
Though everything that happens round 

May not be as we'd rather. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 217 

LITTLE LOVERS. 
Now little lovers will make up, 

They will come back again, 
Perhaps they have not fully learned 

That loving is a pain. 
Yes often when sweet love runs smooth 

One's apt to fly the track. 
But when they see their own mistake, 

They shortly may come back. 

Somehow they meet by accident. 

And smile with looks of love, 
Then O, the sweetness in their hearts 

Prompts them to look above. 
Tliey take it little by degrees. 

As love grows sweet and strong, 
And when they meet and talk it o'er 

Clear up the little wrong. 

The sweetest love^may often sour, 

And say it will not speak, 
Yet both may soon regret it all, 

In less time than a week. 
For love is sweet, too sweet to lose. 

As lovers may attest. 
For when it fails to cheer the heart, 

The heart is not at rest. 

So let us love each other right, 

And love our lovers true. 
And when we learn that love is best, 

Will often love anew. 
Yes, soon, too soon, love may be lost, 

The love we would adore. 
It may be slighted, hurt and wronged. 

And fade to bloom no more. 



218 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LIFE IS WHAT WE MAKE IT. 
Kind hearts are cheerful always, 

And youth has mucli to give, 
With lovely friends around us 

That make life sweet to live. 
When dark clouds gather o'er us, 

And true friends pass us by. 
It chills this heart of ours, 

And cherished pleasures die. 

But yet there is a welcome 

On life's eventful way, 
That bids us do our duty 

And labor all the day. 
A prize that dawns in future, 

A gift of worldly fame 
That treasures up our efforts 

And builds an earthly name. 

Oh, wlio would vainly linger 

Through life's bright summer day, 
In harvest with the roses 

Would sleep sweet life away. 
Is there no heart to cheer us 

When sad thoughts gather round? 
And whisper sweet tiie story, 

Love's purest gems are found. 

If trying can accomplish 

And make life what we may, 
Why make life sweet forever, 

Wiiile youth is bright and gay. 
Soon death may come and tell us, 

Of life beyond the tomb. 
Where angels wait our coming, 

And life shall always bloom. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 319 

LOYELY WOMEN. 

The charms of lovely women 

Are sweet, like daisies fair, 
For lovely are the beauties 

That little daisies wear. 
They often gladly meet me 

With features fresh and new, 
And with some token greet me. 

And act like they are true. 

Of all the cherished blessings 

That life may hope to see, 
The praises of the women 

Do most to make life free. 
Oh, what are other treasures 

Compared with truest love, 
It is the will of Heaven, 

It lureth on above. 

Though some may love unduly, 

And rue sweet love away, 
Yet I would with it tarry, 

And bid it with me stay. 
My vow I'll oft renew it. 

In kindness and in song, 
And seal with love my presence 

That it may lure me on. 

The praise of lovely women 

Are sacred unto me, 
It 'wakens hopes and pleasure§ 

Of blessings yet to be. 
I hope when life is ended, 

And I am called away. 
To live with love forever 

Through one eternal day, 



220 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LOYE WILL COME NO MOEE. 

She was sitting nigh her window, 

Watching 'lone tlie evening sky, 
Sadly thinking o'er her trials 

As the eve was drawing nigh, 
Sitciiig lonely nigh her window, 

Where she'd often sat before, 
Watching love while ho was coming, 

But for her would conic no more. 

He was gone, alas, forever, 

He had turned his heart away, 
She had often bid him tarry. 

But he would not with licr stay. 
Sadly weeping, sadly Fishing, 

As she thought her trials o'er, 
He had wooed and won another, 

And for her would come no more. 

Watching, waiting, weeping, sighing. 

At the window all in vain, 
Trying to relieve her bosom 

Of its bitter loss and pain. 
Oh, the hearts that droop to w^eeping 

For the love they would adore, 
Life to all would bo a burden 

Should its dear ones come no more. 

Life may rise to fame and fortune. 

Love may bloom with beauty gay. 
But the hearts that bid us welcome, 

Soon may sadly pass away. 
Life may be with many others. 

With some one they loved of yore, 
Sadly leave to stay forever. 

Love with some will come no more. 



ALLKN DOBMANS POEMS. 221 

LOST LOVE. 

Life's youth is but a shadow 

Of future things to come, 
And life beyond those shadows 

Has far a brighter sun. 
Thus in life's passing moments 

Are liopes that lure us on, 
When brief like passing shadows, 

We find that youth is gone. 

Yes gone, alas, forever, 

With hopes that cannot stay, 
With roses and tlie sunshine 

So bright along the way. 
And love that life has cherished 

In happy days of yore, 
Is h)st with nje forever. 

And past to come no more. 

Sweet love, that once was sacred, 

Once gentle, kind and gay, 
lias lost its charm forever, 

And faded now away. 
Lost love has been my portion, 

My fate I did not see, 
Yet may not be with others 

As it has been with me. 

But if the heart can labor. 

And wear a smiling face. 
Then grief and pain may vanish, 

And love may take its place. 
So let us be in earnest. 

And labor, love and try. 
And feel that life may conquer 

When victory is nigh. 



222 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LOYELY MAIDEN. 

Maiden gentle, thou art lovely, 

Thou art lovely day by day. 
Thou art friendly, thou art cheerful 

In thy blooming youth so gay. 
Thou art gentle, thou art social, 

And I feel that thou art blest, 
I M^onld tell thee that I love thee, 

If thou didst not know it best. 

Thou art kind to friends and neighbors. 

Thou art kind with strangers too, 
Pleasing, })raising, ever cheerful 

With the words that must be true. 
I was once a stranger with thee, 

Weary, laden, worn and sad. 
But I heard thy words of kindness, 

And they truly made me glad. 

Thou hast taught me well a lesson, 

In whatever we may do. 
It is best to speak with kindness 

Of the hearts that would be, true. 
Gentle words of love and kindness, 

May not all be spoke in vain. 
Some poor heart forlorn and weary 

May revive and live again. 

Gentle words are precious jewels, 

Treasures more than purest gold, 
They are what the heart may cherish. 

And are blessings for the soul. 
Let us work and be in earnest, 

Love and labor day, and night, 
Speaking words of praise and kindness. 

While our golden sun is bright. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 223 

LIFE HAS BEEN YAIN. 
I'his life with r.o it lias been vain^ 

In toiling my wiiy through, 
Some friends Eve knov\n in times of need 

Have pi'ovcd to be untrue. 
Yes, hearts have been unkind to me, 

And known me not by name, 
And hardly as humanity, 

And life it has been vain. 

My future has been dark with me, 

My sun has not been high, 
My heart's been weary, worn and sad 

As da\s past swiftly by. 
Oh, had I only served my God, 

He would not sought to blame, 
He would not have deserted me 

Nor made my life so vain. 

This heart has tried to manly act, 

In dealing with the bad. 
And often failed in what it would 

When it was weak and sad. 
Yes, foes they have refused of me 

My just and pro])er claims, 
And they have sought to injure me, 

And make my past life vain. 

My friends have oft deserted me, 

And left me all alone. 
And foes have magnified my faults 

To cover up their own. 
Who has a friend may have a foe. 

The world will praise and blame, 
And summing life up as I may. 

My life it has been vain. 



324 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LOYE IS COMING. 
Love IS coming, love is coming, 

Maiden watches with a sigh, 
He is coming all in promise, 

Love is coming bye-and-bye. 
She is watching, she is waiting, 

And she feels that he is true. 
She is waiting for his coming 

With his promise to renew. 

Oh, the bosom is uneasy 

When it feels a sudden blight, 
But there is a charm in waiting 

When it feels that all is right. 
Yes, there is a charm we cherish, 

When we feel that all is well, 
And we feel that love is coming 

With some cheering news to telh 



LOVERS DREAM. 
Love dreamt a dream in its own way. 

It was a naughty dream. 
She thought her lover sweet and nice, 

Had melted in a stream. 
She sat upon the rosy banks 

To see the current go. 
It was the first she ever saw 

Sweet love and honey flow. 

She thought life was mysterious, 

And love was misty too, 
That life and love had mysteries 

That taught her something new. 
That love is full of vanities 

With many faults to hide, 
Where life is but a vapor. 

And time is but a tide. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 225 

LEFT WHEN AKGRY. 
My neighbor friend has left me, 

He now lives far away, 
He left when we were angry, 

And he is gone to stay. 
1 thought he was unfriendly, 

I thought he was to blame. 
But yet its brought the feelings 

We ne'er may meet again. 

Friends should not live unduly 

As naught in life can stay, 
With changes of its nature, 

Life soon must pass away. 
Vain thoughts may be but trifles, 

They may not wrong the past, 
But 3'et life's hopes and partings 

May work some good at last. 



LITTLE LAWS. 
A spider once wove out his web, 

Then crept in silent lurk. 
As if it sought to nicely show 

How wisely it could work. 
A wasp came up and dashed within, 

Few struggles let him pass. 
But when the smaller insects came 

It fiercely held them fast. 

And thus the little laws of man 

May let the big thieves through, 
Yet little hearts with little sins 

Must mourn for what they do. 
God's laws are just, they are not thus, 

They hold the great and small, 
And Satan sprightly cocks his tail 

At every sinner's fall. 



226 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LOST BUT FOUND. 
As I was walking through the field 

I found a pocket-knife, 
It was the same that I had lost 

Far back in early life. 
I recognized it as my own. 

My own in childhood's store, 
It drew my thoughts in memory 

To early days of yore. 

I held it sacred for its worth, 

A treasure of my own, 
It had a page in memory 

All sej^arate and alone. 
None knew its value more than I, 

The lost had been redeemed, 
For its own part in memory 

Was held in high esteem. 

And so this moral may be true, 

Some lost event of life 
May come to us in memory 

As this my pocket-knife. 
The deeds we do, the hearts we cheer, 

We may forget the same. 
Yet they belong to memory, 

More sacred than in name. 

So be our actions good or bad. 

Old things n)ay tui-n to new. 
As builders of life's destiny, 

This lesson may be true. 
This world it turns and life it turns. 

And may come round to see. 
That things we turn may likewise turn 

Up in eternity. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 227 

LOST LIFE. 
Oh, tlie precious time that's wasted, 

And the many days gone by, 
And the good of life neglected 

When its golden sun was high. 
Life is lost when its neglected, 

Many moments full of praise, 
Many mornings bright with sunshine, 

Many happy golden days. 

Time is lost with some forever. 

Cherished hopes have been in vain, 
Many troubles have they witnessed. 

Full of sorrow and of shame. 
Every life has time neglected, 

Back in early childhood's dawn 
They have wasted, and unmindful. 

Time that is forever gone. 

Oh, the golden moments wasted, 

And will neverniore return, 
All are numbered in life's journey, 

As we live and as we learn. 
Learn to know the need of labor, 

And the need of cultured youth. 
And the need of sweet contentment, 

And a life of honest truth. 

Life is lost when life is wasted. 

Time is gone when time is past, 
Yet the longings of our nature 

May revive some good at last. 
Losing life is losing Heaven, 

Wasting time is serving sin. 
And is blighting for the bosom 

All its nobler thoughts within. 



8 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LOVE BETRAYED. 

Lost and ruined and forsakened, 

Lost and ruined liere below, 
Lost and ruined, wretched woman, 

In this bitter world of woe. 
Earth luis heard thy plea of sorrow, 

With its bitter, bitter grief, 
Thou hast lost thy share of pleasure, 

Sin alone has been the thief. 

Once thy future was not darkened. 

Once thy golden youth was bright, 
Once thy face and charms were lovely, 

Flushed with beauty and delight. 
But the sins of Satan sought thee, 

As a lurking demon bad. 
And around thee, safely bound thee. 

Till thy weary heart was sad. 

Now it is thy heart is ruined. 

Now it is thy hopes have fled, 
Now the roses of thy bosom 

All have faded and are dead. 
It is wrong to now discourage. 

And to have thy heart to mourn. 
Yet some hearts of yon bright fortune 

Are more guilty than thy own. 

Yes, they sought, and you consented 

To the ruin of your name, 
And the world could see no damage 

To the willing unto shame. 
'Tisnot wealth that brings contentment, 

Nor the bulk of busy cares. 
But success in honest duty. 

And in shunning evil snares. 



ALLEN DOHMANS POEMS. 22d 

LUCRE. 
Lucre, lucre, hoards of lucre, 

Speaks in iron tones of might. 
And the moneyed gods of treasure 

Sway its power with deliglit. 
Honor riches, wealth and fortune, 

Priced too often with the soul, 
And the thwart of man's salvation 

Girded tight with bands of gold. 

Lucre comes both rough and easy. 

Goes by leaving off the i-ough. 
Seekers for it often travel 

Up the hill and down the bluff. 
Old men wake and work to make it, 

Young men dream and do the same, 
Lawyers plead and plan to get it, 

Gamblers play to win the game. 

Lucre, lucre, dreams of lucre, 

Flush and flurry where thou art, 
Business moving, trades improving. 

Lucre plays an active part. 
Brokers scheme in speculation, 

Titles good and titles wrong. 
Courts defend it, fashion spends it. 

Lucre is its silent song. 

Lucre married may come easy, 

Should the bird be not too rough, 
Should she clatter lucre, lucre, 

You may think it dear enough. 
Lucre, lucre, worlds of lucre, 

Lucre making is the game. 
And may win the lieart to honor 

Or unto eternal shame. 



230 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LIVE FOR ME. 

It is to-night that I would offer 

All I am and all I know 
For the hejirt within thj bosom, 

As I trust it loves me so. • 
Yes, O yes, it has been faithful, 

And I feel its willing now, 
And will help in sweetly fixing, 

Make and safely seal our vow. 

Yes, to-night and gently, kindly. 

Yes, this very solemn night 
Shall we, shall we seal our fortunes 

For the coming future bright. 
Careful, breathless, silent moment, 

Tis this heart alone with thee, 
God and Heaven, angels witness. 

Will you, will 3^ou live for me. 



THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 

The old school-house so dear to me, 

So dear in days. of yore. 
Has been my school, my country scliool, 

But can be now no more. 
Its niem'ry now is dear to me, 

It's nigh my birth-place home. 
Far o'er the hills, surrounding hills, • 

My youthful heart hath roamed. 

There many 3'outhful sports I've known, 

'Mid games and mental work. 
Long been a student at its schools. 

Director and its clerk. 
Through winter days and summer days. 

Long have I soldiered there. 
And fought the battles of life's schools 

So re:il in this life's care. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 231 

LITTLE GIELS. 
When little girls are frieudly, 

So pleasant and so sweet, 
I love to see them cheerful, 

Their gentle nianners neat. 
With faces like the morning, 

And blooming all the day, 
And hearts that act so kindly 

In all they do and say. 

I love to hear them singing. 

So gentle and so free, 
The gems of human nature, 

True types of liberty. 
When they are kind and social. 

And seem to watch my ways, 
I love them for their watchings, 

I love them for their praise. 

1 love to see their faces. 

So clean and snowy white. 
With hopes so full of promise. 

And features fair and bright. 
But yet their lives are fleeting, 

They cannot with us stay. 
As death may take untimely 

The little girls away. 

Oh, yes they are the emblems 

Of innocence and truth, 
When they express their wishes 

In happy ways of youth. 
There is a charm about them, 

A thought inwoved with pain, 
That rosy dreams of childhood 

Will never come again. 



838 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

LOVE'S GOLDEN DAY. 

Oil, Imppy fair that iiioni shall be, 

All golden, bright and new, 
When love in all its hope and praise 

Shall welcome me so true. 
When love shall glow with cherished hopes 

And bloom in beantj gay, 
And tliish with charms of loveliness, 

All in that golden day. 

Oh, happy, happy, will it be, 

When love shall gladly come. 
And welcome on that morning fair 

That bright and golden sun. 
That morning sun so clear and bright 

Will drive all night away, 
And spread its glories everywhere 

Then on that golden day. 

Oh, love will bo delightful then. 

And glow with praise and song, 
And peace, and hope, and happiness 

Shall luie us sweetly on. 
Then all that makes life sweet to live, 

And all that's bright and gay 
Will lure us on in happiness, 

Then in love's golden day. 

Love's golden day, sweet golden da}^ 

I'll claim with all my lieait, 
As silent tears, thro' wasting years, 

Has been my bitter part. 
Yes, I will claim thee by and by, 

And welcome thee to stay, 
And ever cherish love's delight, 

Love in love's golden dny. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 233 

LOVE AND Lx\BOil. 

Love and labor when united, 

Have ricli blessings for this life, 
And they help us and they lure us 

Gladly over pain and strife. 
If we claim them and we use them. 

They -will help us as we go, 
Sweetly onward, sweetly U])ward, 

Through this bitter world of woe. 

Love and labor have the blessings 

We should ever keep in view. 
Ever striving to possess them, 

In the work we have to do. 
Love, sweet love, will gladly cheer us. 

And will make our journey bright, 
Labor too will likewise help us 

On and upward with delight. 

Love and labor have the treasures 

We should never let depart, 
Life is not complete without them 

When they're vacant in the heart. 
Love and labor are companions 

Ever marching side by side. 
Hand in hand like little brothers, 

Ever faithful, true and tried. 

Love and labor is our duty, 

Fills the heart with song and praise. 
While the heart is sweetly marching 

Through the lights of golden days. 
Let us all then do our duty. 

As we journey here below, 
Ever claiming as our portion, 

Love and labor as we go. 



231 . ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LURES OF SIN. 
How true it is in daily life 

That real life is true, 
And the' life often brings us change, 

It brings us nothing new. 
Whatever way the mind is bent 

The heart is sure to go, 
And if we choose the lures of sin 

In sin life's bark will row. 

The tide of time bears swiftly on, 

And we as mortals learn 
That when we move in lures of sin 

We cannot easy turn. 
T7e train the heart to love its ways, 

And in its ways pursue, 
And in its ways the harvest comes, 

The fruits of what we do. 

We know not what it is to live 

And truly serve the Lord, 
And neither do we comprehend 

That life has its reward. 
We strive to reap the lures of sin, 

Its sweet desires are vain. 
And seek for praise that never comes. 

Sin is the seed of shame. 

We live in sin and serve it well 

Till all life's days are passed. 
Then thoughtlessly and hopelessly 

May serve it till the last. 
Then why should man refuse of man 

Good help that he may Icain, 
And give him strength to ilo the i i;4ht 

When he's not strength to turn. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 036 

LOVE'S COUNCIL. 

Love in council, once was dreaming 

Of the one lier heart should clioose, 
As she feared in her selection 

She might gain or she might lose. 
On one side was love and duty, 

On the other, lands and gold, 
Love was true, and love was faithful, 

While the heart of wealth was cold. 

Thus she thought while in her council, 

Careless hearts may come to need, 
And of him who has no harvest 

Garners in no golden seed. 
But the faithful hearts may flourish, 

And may prosper day by day, 
And may reap in time of harvest 

Golden blessings by the way. 

Thus she chose her faithful lover, 

Yes, the one she loved the best. 
And the one with hopeful future 

She had gained and he was blest. 
And she found in her selection 

Cherished blessings for her soul, 
Love was dearest and had triumphed, 

In its test with sordid gold. 

And he loved her, truly loved her, 

Flush with hope and promise dear. 
And he prospered, sweetly prospered. 

She with him and he with her. 
And their lives grew sweet and stronger 

With the hopes of golden days. 
And the thoughts of sweet contentment 

Filled their hearts with love and praise. 



836 .. ALLEN 1)0 RMAN'S POEMS. 

LINGERS WITH ITS OWN. 
True love is sweet and is sincere, 

It seeks for love's embrace, 
And labors with its duty free 

To seek its proper place. 
It seeks to praise, it sees no fault 

Where love is pure and bright, . . 
Its ways are ways of happiness. 

And lives in love's delight. 

It seeks a home where it may dwell. 

In marriage and secure. 
And sweetly lingers with its own, . 

When all within is pure. 
It seeks to dwell with love alone. 

And bids its own to stay, 
And lives with love and happiness, 

Delighted every day. 

Sweet love will choose, and claim its own, 

When nature's laws are right. 
That it may grow and thus secure 

Its own with true delight. 
That it may live and be with love, 

And linger with its own. 
And garner in at harvest time 

The seed that it has sown. 

Oh, sad indeed that hearts so warm, 

Should waste affections true. 
And fill their futures with despair. 

And insult Heaven too. . 
Would fail to act in season wise, 

Or do their duty right, . 
And give to death, eternal death. 

The purpose of this life. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 237 

LONGING IN THE HEART. 
There is a longing in the lieart, 

And we feel its constant star, 
And we feel its restless moving 

As the shadows of a day. 
Yes, we feel it in life's sorrows, 

As the world moves swiftly on, 
From the dawning of each morning, 

Till the day is past and gone. 

And within life's daily duties, 

When we sigh or when we weep, 
Find we then this constant warning, 

Born within our nature deep. 
Oh yes, in the march of living, 

When the dearest friends must part. 
Have ve felt this solemn feeling, 

Yes, this longing in the heart. 

It is not for vain desires, 

Or the dread of danger's fall, 
But this longing in the bosom 

Seemeth higher than them all. 
It is not for earthly treasures, 

It is not for pleasures gay. 
But this longing is a warning 

That this life must pass away. 

It is vain for us to rue it, 

Or to sigh for its release, 
As the heait would not be mindful 

Should this longing in it cease. 
Let us then be ever watchful. 

And to hold in high esteem, 
Yes, this longing in our nature, 

Not as mere an idle dream. 



238 ALLEN DORM AN' S POEMS. 

LIFE BEYOND. 
Life beyond tins world of sorrow, 

Life beyond this world of night, 
Stands the world divine, immortal, 

Through eternity bright. 
Just beyond life's narrow vision, 

Just beyond life's breathing breath, 
God is waiting to receive us 

Just beyond this mortal death. 

Life beyond this earthly journey. 

Life beyond and yet so nigh 
That we fancy we may see it, 

When through faith we only try. 
Just beyond this mortal coil. 

Just beyond this wasting bond, 
Oh, so near us, Oh, so near us, 

Is the endless life beyond. 

Life beyond these frail petitions 

Is the endless life to come, 
And we enter it so easy 

When this earthly life is dono. 
Life beyond this earthly voyage 

Is the city of the soul, 
When we enter we must tarry. 

While the years of ages roll. 



LIFT THE FALLEN. 
Go lift your fallen brothers. 

And help them like a man. 
Go cheer them with your presence, 

Go lend a helping hand. 
In helping fallen brothers 

The Lord will surely see. 
And give the heart due credit 

When in eternity. 



*' I*.-"' 




THE LINCOLN MONUMENT.-Page 239. 



ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. ^ 239 

LIFE'S DESTINY. 
When life gets home beyond this world 

In Heaven bright and fair, 
'Twill know the things that angels know, 

Away from toil and care. , 

The heart will then be free from sip, 

Forever free from pain, i , , 

And will be free from mortal life / 

And earthly wishes vain. 

Then we siiall know as we are known, 

And live immortal free, 
When we have reached our destiny 

To spend eternity. 
When we get home we will be home, 

And not be here below, 
And life shall be forever free 

From earthly care and woe. 



LINCOLN. 

The name of Lincoln, known so well, 

A man of real worth, 
Who reached the place of president 

Up from an humble birth. . ' 
His name will long familiar live , 

By what he's done and said, 
And sway the world in history 

Though he is with the dead. 

He's known as great by what he did, 

In what he thought was right, 
His public deeds .were wisely done 

To move tlie public right. 
Yes, like a sun far out in. space. 

His name will brightly stay, , 
That those who look to see his life 

May find around it day. 



\ 



910 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LOYEKS. 

See the men and see the women, 

Acting lovers all the while, 
See the boys and the maidens 

In their courtings laugh and smile. 
They have tasted love, its sweetness. 

And they hurry and they haste, 
Thus to linger at its altar. 

There to get another taste. 

Lovers, lovers, happy lovers, 

Making all the love they ean. 
Just to see how much they like it. 

And how much their hearts may stand. 
Oh, how happy are the lovers 

When they love with all their might. 
Fondly making many mashes. 

And in fixing them up right. 



LOVE'S HOME. 
Love is gentle, warm and sweet, 

When it seeks its own. 
And with same is glad to meet 

In its cherished home. 
Love it thrills with fainting pain. 

Be it far or nigh. 
It will hope to meet again 

In love's by and by. 

But the heart is not its home 

Or its place of birth. 
For the thoughts of love may roam, 

Far away from earth. 
Oh, the real source of love 

And its fountain home, 
Is in Heaven high above, 

Where it seeks its own. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 241 

LIFE'S SUN. 
I wandered thro' the fields one day, 

And sought a place of rest 
Upon the fence to watch the sun 

While setting in the west. 
The sky was clear, the birds were gay, 

And sweetly singing free, 
'Twas in the early spring of life. 

And life was dear to me. 

And while I sat upon the fence 

To pass the time away, 
There passed a man of seventy. 

Whose frosty locks were gray. 
His steps were slow and feeble too, 

His actions much the same. 
His voice trembled as he spoke 

And as he told his name. 

He said to me, "my youthful boy, 

You see yon setting sun, 
You know that when it soon goes down 

The starry night will come. 
You see that sun at morning rise 

And take its daily round, 
You've seen it brighten up the sky. 

You've seen the same go down. 

"And so its been with me, my youth, 

I've seen life's morning sun, 
I've seen it reach life's manhood, 

I've seen my evening come. 
And as that sun so clear and bright 

Is setting in the west, 
The sun of life that keeps me here 

Is setting in my breast. 



242 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

"IVe lived a life of hope and fears, 

I've sought for life's renown, 
But when my sun untimely sets 

Must go forever down.*' 
Sure as that sun that swings in space 

And shines at nature's call, 
The sun of our existence here 

Must rise and set for all. 



LOCAL OPTION. 
Local option, local option, 

Now spreading o'er the land, 
And playing havoc with saloons 

That's selling liquor drams. 
Oh, wonder what the whiskey men 

Will do or even think, 
When they shall find, as sure they must, 

They cannot get a drink. 

LOVE COKNERED. 

'Tis nice to get love cornered, 

And 'waken pleasures new, 
And have her where she loves us, 

And acts so kind and true. 
She acts so tame and gentle 

And thinks that we don't know 
The reason why she loves us. 

And stays around us so. 

She serves a plan so faithful. 

And fears that we are vain, 
When she has heard some tidings 

About her rival's gain. 
She fears that there is danger. 

And loves us all she can. 
And acts so kind and friendly. 

And sweetly serves a plan. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 243 

LITTLE MIGSES. 
Will you love me, little maidens, 

Will you help me while you may, 
Will you favor me your kindness 

While we journey on life's way ? 
Will you praise me when I'm M^eary, 

With your gentle words so true, 
Will you cheer me when I'm saddest, 

With your little faces new ? 

Little pilgrims, little strangers, 

Little girls with gentle ways. 
You have love denied of others 

In your youthful, sunny days. 
Will you know me and be friendly. 

Will you love me every day, 
Will you speak a word of kindness 

When I see you at your play ? 

Will you help me with your favors 
While your happy youth is bright, 

And with deeds of love and kindness 
Will you cheer me in the right? 

Will you speak when I am passing. 
As I go from Sunday school, 

Will you speak your words of kindness- 
Speaking is an easy rule. 

Will you favor me your friendship 
When I see you in the street. 

Dressed in clothing plain or costly, 
Looking lovely, clean and neat? 

Yes, be kind, be true, and friendly, 
While your little hearts are free, 

Gladly sparing sacred blessings 

^ God hath sent by you to me. 



^a ALLEN JDORMAN'S POEMS. 

LOST FEATURES. 

Earth's features are like shadows 

That move and pass away, 
And leave no deep impressions 

Behind them that will stay. 
The faces, looks and features, 

So true to self its own, 
Are but the shades of substance 

That sink in the unknown. 

Oh, features, how they perish, 

And pass like mist away. 
Or like the bloom of summer, 

Or event of a day. 
Lost features of companions. 

Or shadows of the sun, 
May have a future purpose, 

Or go from whence they came. 



LIFE'S SUMMER. 
Life's summer's on its journey, 

The season's sunny day, 
Are seen in looking backward. 

So bright along the way. 
Oh, yes they seem as stations. 

So regular and bright. 
And yet it takes great caution 

To count them from the night. 

To follow them straight backward. 

And lose no missing link. 
Place summer after summer, 

Is most too much to think. 
The thought is one of sadness, 

Yet real do we find 
How small are the impressions 

That life has made on time. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. ^6 

LEGENDS OF TIME. 

Bright legends of illustrious men, 

Of saints and tragic song, 
Have left no trace of what they were, 

While yet the world moves on. 
Yes, legends of the world have come, 

From many events down. 
And left no trace or wear of time 

That may be seen or found. 

Much truth is new of olden times, 

From merit wove within, 
And bears to live in spite of time 

Of what some things have been. 
The myriad legends of the world. 

Of conquest and the brave. 
Must lose all vestige of their trace, 

If reproduce don't save. 



LOVE AND MERCY. 
Love and mercy, when they meet us, 

Make us feel that all is right. 
For they wear a smile upon them, 

Clothed in beauty and delight. 
Yes, the heart may often need them. 

Love and mercy ever true. 
For they prompt in others 'round them 

Deeds of kindness that they do. 

Love and mercy, love and mercy, 

Ever sacred, ever dear. 
When we woo them, and we win them, 

They may furnish thoughts of cheer. 
God is love and God is mercy, 

God is gracious to forgive. 
And he offers us his Heaven 

Through eternity to live. 



246 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

LIFERS BATTLES. 
There's much in life that represents 

The soldier's real life, 
Like battles won, and battles lost, 

And trials in the strife. 
The labors of the author's task, 

The busy cares of days, 
All represent the soldier's life 

In many real ways. 

The heart it plans to get along, 

And labors 'neath the sun, 
And often works at great expense 

In hope to overcome. , 
The little trials day by day. 

And efforts to be right. 
Are dealings with adversity, 

Like skirmishes of fight. 

The hearts that move or travel far, 

As from each place they go. 
Are working with adversities. 

Like soldiers do with foe. 
And hearts that rise to eminence 

May have to war their way 
With oppositions that oppose. 

And strive to gain the day. 

And some may rise, and some may fall 

On life's great battle-field, 
While battling in the conquest, 

Determined not to yield. 
So let us battle for the right, 

Like worthy and the free. 
As life must fight if it would reign 

Out in eternity. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 247 

MY BEST GIRL. 
My best girl is so lovely, 
• So pretty and so free, 
That all her charms and beauties 

Are lovely as can be. 
Her charms so sweet and winning, 

So beautiful and gay, 
And pleasing in their nature. 
Are blooming every day. 

Yes, she is kind and gentle, 

So beautiful and fair. 
That life on its sweet journey, 

Would need no other care. 
Oh, yes, her charms are winning, 

So lovely and so bright. 
And all her smiles are cheering. 

With beauty and delight. 

Her pretty charms are lovely. 

And ever growing new. 
As if the gems of Eden 

Had furnished her their hue. 
Yet lovely charms must perish, 

And blend with nature's breath, 
When maiden's snowy features 

Are summoned unto death. 

Yes, maiden fair is friendly, 

Her heart is full of love. 
The God who made her pretty 

Made Heaven liigh above.' 
Oh, yes, we'd have those features 

So lovely and so gay, 
To be our own forever 

And never pass ^way. 



848 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MY DARLING. 
Oh, my darling, O my darling, 

Blooming lovely, sweet and new, 
She has told me that she loves me 

With her fainting heart so true. 
She will claim me, she will cheer me 

With her beauties all so bright, 
And will love me and obey me 

All she can with sweet delight. 

Yes, we will be happy lovers. 

When we love each other free. 
For IVe set my cap for darling. 

And she's set her hat for me. 
Now my darling, O my darling. 

If sheMl love me all she can, 
She will be a happy darling. 

And I'll be a happy man. 



MULE. 
My neighbor harnessed up his mule 

To plow a field of corn, 
And thought he'd cover up some weeds, 

That just were being born. 
Its heart was full of donkey tricks. 

And donkeys have their day. 
For when it got a little warm 

It turned to run away. 

It 'gave its tail an awful switch. 

And kicked with all its might, 
And lunged in earnest down the hill 

Thro' modern donkey spite. 
It plunged headlong into the pond. 

And could not get its breath — 
Down, down, into the water deep, 

Down in the locks of death. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 249 

MY FRIEND. 
Wiio is my friend in this lone world, 

Who is my help and stay, 
Who is the friend that guides this heart, 

When it would turn astray? 
And when the heart is worn and sad 

And seeks to turn aside, 
Who cheers this heart in paths of right 

And acts as faithful guide. 

The Lord is thus my constant friend, 

He seeks to care for me, 
And prompts the heart to do the right 

When it hath need tt) be. 
So if the Lord's my friend indeed, 

While no one else is nigh, 
The Lord will be my friend in need, 

To save me when I die. 



MEN WE ENVY. 
The men we envy— who are they? 

Are they true men of deeds, 
Or ai-e they men we should mistrust. 

As snakes among the weeds? 
What cause have we to check their march, 

What have they done to us, 
Why should we envy them at all. 

Or even them mistrust. 

They have to live and they have rights, 

They have their toil and care. 
And if they live in this big world. 

They'll sui-ely have their share. 
So let us live and envy none. 

We reap the seed we sow, 
Yet little birds that sing so sweet 

In some way have a foe. 




MY MATDEN.-Paue 250. 



2o0> ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MY MAIDEN. 
My maiden is a daisy, 

And she is kind and true, 
She's like the queen of roses 

That's ever blooming new. 
Her tresses are so lovely, 

Her features are so fair 
That age would be but cruel 

To put its fingers there. 

She is the queen of summer, 

She is the queen of May, 
She is the queen of loving. 

She loves me every day. 
Her ways are light and winning, 

Her charms are fresh and new, 
Her love is like the morning 

In that its ever true. 

I love to see my maiden. 

Her pretty charms so fair, 
And life with all its blessings 

Would need no other care. 
For she is kind and friendly 

And lovely all the day. 
She is the queen of maidens, 

So beautiful and gay. 

I love my pretty maiden, 

Her charms are blooming bright, 
In all their golden glory 

So pleasing to the sight. 
Her love doth make her friendly, 

Her love doth make her sweet, 
Her love will teach me truly 

None other need compete. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS, 251 

Of many lovely maidens 

I love her truly best, 
And love its golden blessings 

Lies center in her breast. 
If love will love me faithful, 

And bid this heart to stay, 
This heart will claim her only. 

And love her every day. 



MY TEACHER^S TOMB. 
Up to this writing there's not been 

Spare time we may presume, 
To have a handsome monument 

Phiced at my teacher's tomb. 
Conic schoolmutes and you mason men, 

Our duty we've forsook, 
And have neglected much too long 

The tomb of Mr. Cook. 

You Cliristian hearts of charity. 

And men of public trust, 
This life is brief, we too, must die, 

Such may come home to us. 
The deeds we do of noble worth 

May sweetly cheer life's way. 
And treasure up fond memories 

To live beyond our day. 

How shall we think when we must die, 

And dust returns to dust. 
How we have served humanity 

That it should do for us. 
When flowers lose their healthful bloom, 

No hand may care to save. 
And hearts that's due a monument 

May scarcely find a grave. 



teS ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MY LASSIE 0\ 
My lassie, will you love me best, 

Oh say, will you be kind, 
And train our hearts for other years, 

That they may truly bind. 
Yes, come and sit beside mc now, 

And cheer this heart to know 
That it may treasure happiness, 

And love its lassie O'. 

True love is sweet, when it is right, 

And love may ripen strong. 
And grow to be as perfect quite 

As heaven's highest song. 
Yes, tell me that this heart is true. 

And cheer and make it free, 
And love me to thy heart's content. 

While all alone with thee. 

Yes, lay thy hands upon my arm. 

Thy head upon my breast, 
And whisper sweet that I am thine. 

And lull sweet love to rest. 
That I may feel that magic spell, 

And with thee pleasures share. 
Serenely as no tongue can tell. 

And love my lassie fair. 

I know thy heart will wait for me, 

Oh, should it vain betray, 
'Twould blight the heart that now is true, 

And drive all hopes away. 
But I will love my lassie dear. 

And welcome pleasures new. 
And strengthen love in silent cheer, 

And love my lassie true. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 253 

Oh, I will love none other true, 

If lassie will be mine. 
This heart will know undying love. 

And hope to soon be thine. 
When life is done, and death shall come 

To bear the soul away, 
I hope to be with lassie dear, 

And with my lassie stay. 



MY BOOK. 

My book, ray book, it is my hope, 

I love its thoughts of truth 
Much as a father loves his son 

He's reared up from its youth. 
The gems of worth which it contains, 

And placed upon its leaves, 
Have cost great efforts all thro' life 

To gather them in sheaves. 

I love my book, I love my book, 

I've had to write the same. 
And known what efforts it has cost 

Thro' trials and thro' pain. 
I love it when the heart is sad, 

For it is dear to me, 
A treasure for this fleeting life, 

And for eternity. 

So let the books we all may write, 

Be written for the best, 
And let each life be modeled right, 

As for eternal rest. 
Each life is but a written book, 

A history of its own, 
A history for the great beyond 

That's issued to unknown. 



254 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MANY THANKS. 

Many thanks, to one so worthy, 

In the borrow of thy book, 
Often liave I read its pages 

Sitting nigh some little brook. 
Many blessings it has brought me. 

As I've read its pages o'ei-, 
Many lessons it has tauglit rue 

That I never knew before. 

Often has the heart been saddened. 

Thinking of some pleasui"e past, 
Dreaming of an honored future, 

With its bright and wortliy task. 
Yet, for me bright days have vanished, 

In this world of hope and pain, 
And bright hopes that life has cherished 

Never may return again. 

But there's much of life remaining, 

Much in life to lure us on. 
Much to cheer us in life's duty. 

Till a brighter day shall dawn. 
Yes, for each a task is given. 

And a duty to forgive. 
Ever toiling on and upward, 

Merely for the right to live. 

Let us then be ever cheerful. 

Working faithful all the day, 
Striving like the men of honor, 

Whose immortal works will stay. 
Let us read good books of merit, 

Like their authors, faithful try. 
They whose works are now immortal, 

And whose names may never die. 



ALlEN bORMANS POEMS. ^55 

MY LITTLE LADY. 
I love mj little lady, 

She often comes to me, 
Comes smiling sweet and cheerful, 

As lovely as can he. 
She is a lovely lady, 

And I am pleased to know 
She is my little maiden, 

The girl that loves me so. 

Her heart is young and cheerful 

And ever full of praise. 
And loves me best of any. 

All in her own true ways. 
She tells me that she loves me, 

As only she may do, 
And lends her charms so fondly, 

So beautiful and true. 

I love my little lady 

The best of any one. 
And in her is the promise 

Of happy days to come. 
I love her for her beauties, 

Her kindness and her name, 
And feel it is a pleasure 

To have her do the same. 

If loving gives my lady 

Sweet happiness and rest, 
I'll love her as a duty, 

I'll love her truly best. 
And love will sweetly treasure 

The praise of Heaven nigh, 
And lead us up to glory 

Where love shall never die. 



256 ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 

MY CHOICE. 

My choice now is but to know, 

This heart is tilled with pain, 
Bright hopes that once were dear to me 

Can ne'er return again. 
This heart it has been broken sad, 

And felt it was nnblest, 
And been deserted by the one 

It truly loved the best. 

Why did she go, why did she go, 

This heart has asked in vain. 
And when this heart has thought of her. 

Has 'wakened thoughts of pain. 
The work was done, untimely done, 

Most like a winter's frost. 
And chilled this heart till all its hopes 

Have been forever lost. 

Oh, who could blame the wretched heart 

When sorrows make it weep? 
Tliis heart was torn, and O, it ached 

With thoughts of what it reaped. 
This heart it often thought of her 

In sunny days of yore, 
And even yet it calls to mind 

The beauties that she wore. 

Oh, can it bo this heart was wrong, 

Or that it was to blame. 
If such was true, this heart in grief 

Has had its share of pain. 
Could all my woes return to me 

That's pained my every breath. 
Oh, could they all return to me, 

Mv choice it would be death. 



ALLEN DOBMANS POEMS. 257 

MUCH EEMAINS. 
This life is often cold and dark 

With many pilgrims here, 
And ventures that the heart may make, 

Is often made with fear. 
We know life has its share of grief, 

Its bitter toil and pain, 
Yet, should we think what life deserves, 

There's much for it remains. 

'Tis true, dark clouds may often come 

And change the sunny sky. 
Yet far beyond the sun is bright, 

And would, if could, be nigh. 
And thus the heart is often sad 

With losses more than gains, 
But should it think what it deserves, 

There's much for it remains. 

The God of life hath sacred laws. 

Consistent in its ways, 
And gives to earth what earth deserves. 

Its sun and sunless days. 
Some hearts are rich and some are poor, 

And some are proud and vain. 
Who cannot see, or do not see, 

Their portion that remains. 

Why think of nature everywhere, 

The little birds that sing, 
The hope beyond this fleeting life. 

And golden thoughts of spring. 
We have unnumbered blessings here. 

The sunshine and the rains, 
So let us live and grateful be 

That such for us remains. 



258 ALLEN DOUMAN'S POEMS. 

MAY I NOT. 
Yes, my true and friendly maiden, 

We have gladly met to-night, 
We are friends and we are lovers. 

Seeking to be in the right. 
May our hearts be true and faithful, 

May thy heart be true to me, 
May we both live long as lovers, 

May I not prove vain to thee. 

We were friends and we were lovers 

In the sunny days of yore, 
Then it was we talked together, 

Of the future bright before. 
Then it was we praised each other 

In our hearts so glad and free, 
Then it was I promised truly, 

May 1 not prove vain to thee. 

If we love each other only 

We will know the right from wrong, 
Life to each will be a blessing. 

As we journey sweetly on. 
Then life's trials will be easy. 

And life's blessings will be free. 
If to each our hearts are faithful, 

May you not prove vain to me. 

Now the future gladly cheers us 

With new prospects every day 
Yet such hopes are thus relying 

On the things that pass away. 
Let us then be constant striving, 

Let thy heart be true to me, 
If thy heart is true and faithful 

I will not prove vain to thee. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 259 

MAGGIE. 

Miss Maggie, hearts are often vain, 

And life is iieeting fast, 
And cherished hopes that once were bright 

Are drifting in the past. 
01), yes, this heart's been very sad, 

It's often ached with pain, 
And much its loved and cheiished long, 

Shall ne'er return again. 

What e'er the past has been with us. 

While on youth's sunny shore, 
I cannot speak but for myself 

Of thoughts which come no more. 
The gem of love that once was dear, 

Though childish hearts were vain, 
Was spurned beneath our treading feet, 

And chilled to death in pain. 

'Twas other hearts then came to me. 

And lingered fondly nigh, 
All angry words which then were heard, 

Pray let us pass them by. 
Yes, let us be as friends once more. 

That love may pleasures find. 
That angry thoughts may never dwell 

Between this heart and thine. 

For what is life with all its praise, 

If we neglect our own? 
May cast a shadow o'er life's days. 

And lose what good we've sown. 
Yes, what is life with pilgrims here. 

If hatred must control? 
How can we do our duty right 

When all within is cold ? 



260 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

Then let us strive with courage true, 

And labor every day, 
That golden thoughts of kindness 

May not be thrown away. 
That life may glow with blighter hopes. 

And love sweet pleasures know 
That life may have the joys return, 

We loved of long ago. 

Then God will bless us while we live. 

And help us with his hand, 
And give us strength that we may strive 

To do what good we can. 
So let us live and do the right, 

And conquer thoughts of hate, 
And feel the pleasures lo forgive 

Before it is too lute. 



MINNIE. 
Miss Minnie is a pretty girl, 

And lovely as can be. 
And often gives a gentle smile, 

Intended all for ine. 
She has a heart to sympathise 

And all her charms are new, 
And she is near and dear to me 

Because she is so true. 

Oh, could I be with Minnie fair 

I'd feel that I was blest, 
I then could pleasures with her share, 

Aiid love her truly best. 
Then love would cherish all our hopes, 

And grow with pleasure strong. 
And gladly brighten every day, 

And cheer us swcetlv on. 



ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. SGI 

MAMIE IN HEAVEN. 
Miss Mamie was my schoolmate, 

Far back in early youth, 
But now she is in Heaven, 

Safe with the God of truth. 
She's taken from love's circle 

PJer lovely features fail-. 
And saddened part its pleasures, 

And left it vacant there. 

She sought for new companions. 

And angels know her face. 
She's with her God in Heaven, 

That sacred, far-off place. 
She loves her new companions, 

And knows their chei'ished worth. 
For angels' hearts are purer 

Than hearts that dwell on earth 

They love her for her beauties. 

They love her for her praise. 
And love her for her kindness, 

Through bright, eternal days. 
She loves to live with angels, 

Her heart is happy now. 
She's won the crown of glory 

She wears upon her brow. 

Oh, Mamie, lovely Mamie, 

We would that she was nigh, 
And visit with her playmates 

From Heaven now on high. 
Oh. yes, we seek her presence 

Wherever she may live, 
For we would speak with Mamie 

If she could answer give. 



3 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

They tell us she is spirit, 

And that she cannot come, 
And whisper words of kindness, 

As she has often done. 
But that she may be with us 

In vision or in dream, 
And help us in life's duty. 

All sweetly and serene. 

We know her home is Heaven, 

Where soon we hope to be. 
And that her loved companions 

Are happy now^and free. 
We see her as through fancy. 

Her home so far away, 
Through faith we bridge our vision 

To faith's eternal day. 

Oh, Heaven, far-off Heaven, 

With happy angels fair, 
That wing their presence lightly 

So far away from care. 
Oh, could we all be with them 

And with the angels rest, 
'Twould ease the restless longing 

That lies within the breast. 

Miss Mamie, lovely Mamie, 

We bid her now adieu. 
As for respect for Mamie 

When she was with us true. 
We know she is in Heaven, 

Where spirits cannot die. 
So wait for us fair Mamie, 

We'll meet thee by and by. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 06 

MY LAST SCHOOL-BELL. 
'Tis sad indeed for me to hear 

Tones of my old school-bell, 
It turns my heart so quickly back, 

To days I've loved so well. 
Its tones remain familiar yet, 

Most as in days long passed, 
And I may ne'er forget the time 

It rang for me the last. 

Yes, it was long, long, years ago, 

Tho' few, yet long they seem. 
But when it was and how it was 

Appears most like a dream. 
Its tones I yet remember well, 

As fancy holds them fast. 
The same my youth has often heard 

Has rang for me the last. 

Yes, I was on my old playground, 

And heard my last bell ring, 
Its tones familiar then to me 

Fled as on solemn wings. 
Its tones I since have often heard, 

Yet rings for me no more. 
It rings for others quite the same 

As once for me in yore. 

But life has changed and friends have left 

And youth is on retreat, 
And I was sadly called from school 

And others have my seat. 
And I was called forth out in life 

To meet its cares and pain. 
And reap the harvest youth had sown, 

It ne'er can sow again. 



1^ ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

Oh, when I pass the old school-ground 

And its surroundings see, 
And when I hear the school-bell ring 

I feel it calls for me. 
'Twas therein childhood's sporting days 

Was formed life's guarding rule, 
The rules that seal life's destiny, 

The same was formed at school. 

Yes, then the seed of good or bad 

Is planted in the heart, 
And goes with life and stays with life 

And never may depart. 
Yes, all that molds our habits firm 

Is formed within us then, 
And stays with us and is our own 

When we have grown to men. 

The poor and weary may be good, 

The humble may be true, 
And faithful hearts may garner in 

The fruits of what they do. 
And kindness has its own reward, 

And duty is its stay, 
And labor is a creditor 

That's ever prompt to pay. 

Oh, some that heard my last bell ring 

May seek the heights of fame, 
And live for truth and usefulness 

And build up life and name. 
So let us work and do the right, 

And have the future tell. 
That life may pride in what it was 

Since rang its last school-bell. 



ALLEN DOBMAN'S POEMS. 265 

MILLIE WHITE. 

COLORED. 
IN MEMORIAM. 

There is a wise and perfect God 

"Who's made and governs all, 
And gives to earth wliat earth deserves, 

Its portion, great and small. 
He counts not by the strong and brave, 

By numbers of the bold, 
And measures not by looks or dress, 

But plans to save the soul. 

And all true Christians, rich or poor, 

Who truly serve the Lord, 
Must enter death alloted them. 

And reap their own reward. 
Then happy will the Christian be 

Though poor in life below, ., 

To gain that bright celestial home 

Above life's every woe. 

And thus it was of whom we write, 

Unknown to wealth and fame, 
Yet true she helped the sick and poor, 

And bore a Christian's name. 
She was polite and good to all. 

And helping as a friend, 
And if the sick had need of her 

Ther could on her depend. 

But now she sleeps within her tomb, 

Beneath the dewy sod. 
Prepared in death's eternity. 

To meet a friendly God. 
Yes, meet her Lord she loved so true. 

And served so well on earth. 
And cast her lot with angels safe, 

And know sweet Heaven's worth. 



266 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

No more to suflfer pain and grief, 

No more to linger long, 
But with the angels high above 

She joins their happy throng. 
And lives with them no more to die, 

And free from every care, 
And sing with them celestial songs 

In Heaven bright and fair. 



MY FOES. 
My foes, my foes, my watchful foes, 

They watch with envied eyes, 
And look as if they surely thought 

That all my words were lies. 
They seem to think that I am wrong, 

And what they do is right, 
And all the good that I may do 

Is only done for spite. 

They slur me and they envy me, 

Some look most awful mean, 
And act as if they had been whipped, 

Or smelt of something green. 
And should I happen to be wrong, 

It is an awful shame, 
They seem to glory at my loss, 

As if it was their gain. 

Come now, my foes, don't be so bad. 

Don't blind your mortal sight, 
Don't worry at the good I do. 

But let us all do right. 
This is a world of wide extent 

Where neighbors oft infringe, 
And where each heart is tempted much, 

And foes go unrevenged. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 267 

MEN AND WOMEN. 

See the men and see the women, 

With affections how they splice, 
See some men so rough and ugly, 

See some women sweet and nice; 
See them when they love each other, 

See them talk and see them dance. 
See them when they get at sparking, 

See them labor for a chance. 

Men and women, men and women, 

Common in all peopled lands, 
Trading in a common traffic, 

Trading hearts and trading hands. 
Wonder how the men would like it . 

If the women were to fly. 
And the men could never catch them 

When they wanted huggin' pie. 

Wonder, wonder, awful wonder, 

Men and women all the while, 
Working to keep up in fashion. 

And in spreading on the style. 
Oh, we wonder what would happen 

Could such awful thing be true. 
Should the women leave the country, 

Wonder what the men would do. 

Men and women may be useful. 

When they labor and they try, 
When they learn the mul'plication, 

And they learn to multiply. 
Men are handy and convenient. 

With the women tame and true, 
Wonder, wonder, wonderful. 

What the men and women do. 



8 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MOST AWFUL SICK. 
Oh, my darling, yes, my darling. 

You are what I call my own, 
I could lift thee, I could pack thee, 

I could tote thee all alone. 
And I think jou ought to love me, 

I have loved thee long and true, 
Still I iind my little darling. 

Love is pleasant to pursue. 

Oh my darling, lovely darling, 

Faithful, gentle, true and tame, 
Lovely, pretty, sweet as honey, 

And I love thee all the same. 
Now my darling, be in earnest, 

You must love me all you can, 
Don't forget to let us whisper. 

Darling, dumplin's hand in hand. 

Take me darling to thy bosom, 

Lift and turn me gently o'er, 
Look right down upon me darling 

With th}' looks of sweet adore. 
Take me gently to thee darling. 

Draw me closely to thy breast, 
Let us look like little lovers. 

Or like two pet doves at rest. 

Let us woo as mashers do it. 

All in love our little bliss. 
As we whisper darling, darling. 

Let us seal a loving kiss. 
Darling, darling, lovely darling, 

Will you darling, love me true. 
If my darling loves me dearest, 

I will love a little too. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. M 

MOURN NOT FOR ME. 

Mourn not for me for I must go, 

M}' heart is turned away, 
My heart is turned to leave its home. 

And truly turned to stay. 
My heart is turned and I must leave, 

And bid my friends adieu. 
And seek my home far, far away, 

With other faces new. 

I've tried in vain to do my part. 

And do my duty right, 
But all my plans are sadly now 

Repulsive in my sight. 
My efforts all have been in vain, 

And now I cannot stay, 
My troubles pain my weary heart, 

And it is turned away. 

I know some friends are dear to me, 

And neighbors have been true. 
But I must leave them all behind, 

'Tis best that I can do. 
I feel some hearts may need my help, 

Their actions tell me so, 
But as it is, my heart is turned. 

And truly turned to go. 

Mourn not for me, 'tis my request, 

Dear friends, for we must part, 
The changes of this earthly life 

Is sad for every heart. 
And all we do in this vain life, 

Will soon be past and o'er, 
So let us live that we may meet 

Where partings are no more. 



«0 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MEN OF DEEDS. 
True men of deeds, of useful deeds, 

Are real men of worth, • 
The men who do their duty riglit, 

Are best that dwell on earth. 
They toil and labor day by day, 

And know their duty best, 
And dare to labor for the right, 

And should be duly blest. 

We seek them much as social friends. 

And praise their merit true, 
And try to imitate their work 

In much they say and do. 
They liarvest treasures for the world, 

Bright thoughts of virtue's seed. 
And scatter with their main and might 

The blessings of their deeds. 

Oh, men of deeds, true men of deeds, 

They must delight their God, 
In that their deeds will live for right 

When they are 'neath the sod. 
We love to claim them as our friends. 

Their help we often need, 
And much delight in praising them 

About their worthy deeds. 

So let us live like men of deeds, 

And do our duty well, 
That others seeing how we do. 

May glad the story tell. 
True men of deeds are men of worth 

Whatever be their creeds, 
We all should imitate their good 

And live like men of deeds. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 37J 

MY SAD HEART. 

The sun above is clear and bright, 

The birds are singing glad, 
But O, within this aching breast 

This heart is cold and sad. 
There is no song, there is no charm 

That gives my heart relief. 
Life's cherished hopes that once were bright 

Have all been turned to grief. 

My heart is sad, my heart is sad, 

My hopes are all in vain, 
My heart has lost bright, cherished hopes 

It never can regain. 
My heart is weak and all is gloom, 

Where once was free and gladj 
My life is dark and sorrowful 

Because my heart is sad. 

This life is sad, O very sad, 

My heart is full of pain, 
I often try to find relief. 

But then I try in vain. 
My breast is aching all the time, 

My heart is bleeding sore. 
My grief is great for me to bear. 

And all is dark before. 

Oh, could I have my youth return. 

Its sunny days so bright. 
And all that life lias ever been. 

Above the thoughts of night. 
'Twould bring my heart sweet comfort now, 

If it could pleasures see. 
It then would try to live agaiu 

And make this bosom free. 



273 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

MY AGED TEACHER 
Since early joutli I've truly known 

My faithful teacher's face, 
Tho' others have been dear to me, 

There's none that fills her place. 
Yes, long I've known her as my friend, 

And long I've known her name, 
Tho' fleeting years have changed her looks 

Her heart is yet the same. 

Now in her age her locks are gray, 

Her life is failing fast. 
She looks not for the world's renown, 

But thinks about the past, 
She's known the trials of this life, 

Her failings they are few. 
Her heart has passed thro' toil and pain, 

And tested it till true. 

Yes, now in age she looks to God, 

The God of Providence, 
And puts her trust within His care 

Safe in His confidence. 
She sees in age that youth is passed. 

And life is not secure. 
That all is fleeting here below 

And life must pain endure. 

Yes, youth is passed that once was fiee 

With sports and pleasures gay. 
Have faded with the mist of years. 

And with them passed away. 
So let us all a lesson learn 

From one so good and and true. 
And be like her in what was right 

That God may help us through. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 273 

MINDED MEDDLERS. 
Yes, fair maiden heeded meddlers, 

And she's taken their advice, 
Let some persons fix her marriage 

With the one that she must splice. 
Yes, she trusted love so sacred, 

With some friends and friends alone, 
As if she had not a saying 

In what should have been her own. 

Yes, slie let some meddlers fix it, 

And they fixed it up their way, 
Now she sees they were mistaken, 

And she has the cost to pay. 
Yes, she bartered love so sacred, 

And she dared to venture bold 
In her act of hasty trading 

For the cheating thoughts of gold. 

Love, true love, yes, love was traded, 

Love that should have had no price, 
Love was lost, yes, lost forever 

In its trade with good advice. 
Now she blames her free advisers, 

And herself a little too. 
Now she sees she is the victim, 

Traded love may not be true. 

Lost true love in minding meddlers, 

Lost true love and love's delight. 
All that makes this earth a Heaven 

And its sunny road so bright. 
Lost and ruined and forever, 

While she mourns thro' wasting years, 
Sees she now where slighted others. 

Thro' her grief and silent tears. 



274 Allen dorman s poems. 

MAIDEN AND THE MALE. 
There are pleasures, hopes and praises, 

That we meet with every daj, 
But the heart is constant changing, 

And its pleasures will not staj. 
Yet the pleasures that we cherish, 

And we wish would never fail, 
Are the pleasures that are sweetest 

With the maiden and the male. 

Life would be a vale of sorrow, 

If there were no maidens fair, 
Sweet to praise the men and boys 

With their solace and their care. 
See how the boys love the maidens. 

When they fix themselves for sale, 
See their hearts thump forth with pleasure 

When the maiden's with the male. 

Nature made the pretty maidens, 

Furnished them with beauties bright. 
But it made the men at leisure, 

Or at odd times in the night. 
Thus the men are rough and ugly. 

And with faces often pale, 
But it all is turned to sweetness 

When the maiden's with the male. 

Man was once a prided racer, 

Descended from the monkey tribe, 
Down thro' ages he has tumbled 

With a maiden at his side. 
Doctors prove the old rib story. 

But all creeds and doctrines fail. 
When the sexes are in earnest, 

And the maiden's with the male. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 276 

MAIDEN'S NATURE. 
See the maidens when they love us, 

How they look another way, 
How they smile and laugh a little 

As if accidentally. 
An accident — no accident. 

They sweetly love untrue. 
It is planted in their nature. 

And they cultivate it too. 

Maiden's nature, maiden's nature. 

How they flirt and how they play. 
How they try to sweetly charms ua 

As they look another way. 
Yes, they love us, dearly love us, 

But may never tell us so. 
They would truly have us love them 

In some other way you know. 

Get us charmed and they are happy. 

When they think they have us caged, 
Then they get about their planning 

With the terms to get engaged. 
All because they charmed us sweetly. 

With their looks and with their plan, 
With their sweet romantic nature. 

Talking of another man. 

Maiden's nature, maiden's nature, 

Always sweet but seldom true, 
Plans with plans should go together, 

We should have some nature too. 
Nature, nature, saucy nature. 

Maiden's nature is the game. 
How they test life's better nature. 

Yet they love us all the same. 



i ALLEN DORM AN S FOEWS. 

MOKNING OF DECAY. 
When the earth was formed by nature, 

By a law of perfect plan, 
Wisely for the soul's creation. 

And the safe abode of man. 
Yes, when Adam ate the apple. 

And he threw man's life away. 
Came the night of sin and darkness. 

And the morning of decay. 

Then it was man first degraded, 

Fell from Eden's high estate. 
Sealed for man his mortality, 

Brought to earth his sin and hate. 
Man was driven from the garden 

By the law he must obey. 
After night, which must have followed, 

Dawned the morning of decay. 

Down thro' ages man has wandered 

'Neath a bright, decaying sun. 
Saw from nature and its doings 

What the law of death has done. 
Man has suffered and repented. 

And has wandered far astray 
From the duty of his purpose, 

Since the morning of decay. 

Nature has a law that teaches 

Of the ocean, air and ground. 
Which extends from earth to planets. 

And the distant worlds around. 
All through space and earthly substance, 

All that moves in nature's sway. 
All that's subject unto nature 

Had its morning of decay. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 277 

Nature has its storms and tempests, 

Has its sunsliine and its breeze, 
Gives to man his bitter portion, 

Sorrow, famine and disease. 
Wars have come and humbled nations, 

Crime has raged in sad dismay, 
Earth to earth has been corroding 

Since the morning of decay. 

Wars and rumors, wars and famine. 

Wars and mighty wars have come, 
And hath sunk life into darkness. 

Buried from the light of sun. 
Sorrow, grief and mental anguish, 

All the doings of a day, 
Spreading death and desolation 

Since the morning of decay. 

Yet to earth all nature echoes 

In the cadence of its song, 
That the right may yet be righted 

Safe and sacred from the wrong. 
Yes, the hope of pleasant sunlight, 

And the gentle songs of May, 
All for life may rise from darkness 

Since the morning of decay. 

Truth, indeed, will sure be righted. 

Justice treads with leaden steps, 
Though it slumbers in its prison. 

Wisdom rights its injured debts. 
And the Lord is ever watchful. 

When the soul is torn away 
He will save it, if it's worthy. 

From the workings of decay. 



8 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MASHED. 
What is mash, O, what is mashed, 

Its meaning or its name, 
When mashed upon another heart, 

Or smitten on the same. 
Now some folks say it is to bruise, 

And others say to flirt, 
And others think it is to love, 

Until the loving hurt. 

Now mash, is to get all broke up, 

And love with ardent heat, 
And have some difficulties in 

To make the loving sweet. 
When love is mashed and desperate, 

A longing and yearning. 
Is just its very meaning true, 

Drawn from source of learning, 

MISS ANNIE. 
Fair and lovely, features blooming, 

Free like morning bright. 
Young and pretty, full of promise, 

Cheerful with delight. 
God hath made thee fair and lovely. 

Pride of what He coukl, 
And hath favored thee with blessings. 

That thou may be good. 

MISS ELLA. 
Thou art lovely, fair and pretty, 

Flush with bloom of youth. 
Dreaming of a sunny future 

With thy heart of truth. 
Yes, thy heart it asked the favor. 

To insert thy n;imc 
In the book that wo arc writing, 

Classed with those of fame. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 279 

MUSIC. 

Sweet music, strains of music, 

We love its notes so well, 
It chants the weary bosom, 

And bids the heart to swell. 
Yes, music, ciiimes of music, 

That vibrate thro' the trees. 
And floats like gentle zephyr 

So softly on the breeze. 

Oh music, notes of music, 

Fond blessings sweetly bring, 
Yet, fills the heart with sadness, 

When it is called to sing. 
We love the charms of music, 

Tiiey lure and lift the soul, 
And waft the spirit upward, 

Where songs grow never old. 



JEFFERSON DAVIS. 
The worthy men of nations, 

Who rule affiiirs of state, 
And help the world to prosper, 

May well be counted great. 
And thus, with Mr. Davis, 

A worthy man indeed. 
A statesman and an author. 

Who met a public need. 

Thus all men of the country, 

Who shine from stations bright, 
Are like the stars of glory, 

That move tlie shades of night. 
Their lives are ])ublic models, 

Tiieir deeds ai'e gems of worth, 
And all their works are worthy. 

That help and bless the earth. 



280 ALLEN r.CT.v.Ay: prr.y.?. 

MAETIN VAN FUEEX. 
Each luorral lieuit iiuiy liavi- n lusk. 

In soiDG way wliilu on (aiili. 
And those who reach tie pre sidcnt. 

Are a])<" to be of worth 
And men who wend tl nr ( wn wry np, 

By worthy deeds and vay^, 
May tridy nieiit in their rank 

Mncli great a])i)lause and praise. 

The world lialh need of worthy hearts, 

To rule it as they should, 
And wliile eaeh heart niay not be great, 

May all be true and good. 
So let US live and let us try, 

And wisely do the right. 
That God niay give us in tl e end 

A crown forever bright. 



MILLARD FILLMOEE. 
To reach the rank of president 

May cost an effort true, 
And that high rank may well belong 

To only great and few. 
Yet Mr. Fillmore reached it safe 

As thirteenth president, 
And luled the country in his name, 

Before his life was spent. 

Thus other iiearts may learn of him. 

His life of truth and deed. 
And try to bless humanity 

By helj)lng it in need. 
We have but one time here to live. 

And one time here to die. 
So we should make the most of life. 

And dare to live and trv. 




BENJAMIN HARRISON.-Page 281. 




GROVEK CLEVELAND.-Page 281. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 281 

GROVER CLEVELAND. 
Mr. Grover, Grover Cleveland, 

A heavy man of fame, 
Who beat in race for president, 

A Mr. James G. Blaine. 
He broke the rule of party reign. 

And rode proud into state. 
And in his democratic reign 

Was counted wise and great. 

He started out in early life, 

And wended his own way. 
And battled with adversities. 

Till came a brighter day. 
And thus it is with self-made men. 

Who dare to live and try, 
May help the world, and bless the world. 

Before they come to die. 



BENJAMIN HARRISON. 

The bright men of the country, 

The worthy and the true, 
Who sway and rule the nations, 

Belong to only few. 
And thus it is an honor, 

To be related nigh 
To chieftain of the nation, 

Up in its ranks so high. 

The great men and tlie worthy. 

Do unto others show, 
How they have reached the stations, 

The world may well bestow. 
'Tis good to be related, 

To men of high estate, 
But better, yes, far better, 

To make self good and great. 



282 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MINGLED WITH SORROW. 
All that we cherish in the heart, 

And all the heart may borrow, 
And all the hopes of better days 

Are mingled here with sorrow. 
We feel the spirits rise and fall 

As in our nature blended, 
They are indeed the bosom's need, 

They have so often mended. 

The hopes that lure ns sweetly on 

In gloiy or in pleasure, 
May 'waken grief and seek relief 

In times of sighing leisure. 
For every hope there is a sigh, 

For every hill a hollow, 
And all the pleasures of the heart 

Are mingled liere with sorrow. 

MEET ME m THAT OTHER 
WORLD. 
Once on a time I had a friend 

In sickness stricken down, 
And while she on her dying bed 

Her friends were gathered round. 
She knew me as she softly spoke, 

She was a little girl. 
She spoke to me in dying words, 

Meet me in that other world. 

Oh, meet again, yes, meet again, 

Beyond this world of toil, 
Bright in that world we shall be free 

From this our mortal coil. 
Yes, meet again, I'll keep ray word, 

A promise of the soul. 
We'll meet where kindred part no more, 

And time grows never old. 




Mi»thi<;k is dead.-page -jus. 



ALLEN DOEMAN'S TOEMS. 283 

MOTHER IS DEAD. 
Oh, Lord, my God, my Savior, 

My heart is tilled with pain, 
My mother, O, my mother, 

I ne'er shall see again. 
In death she sweetly slumbers, 

I ne'er shall see her more, 
Her face, her form and features, 

Or pleasant smiles she wore. 

With her bright hopes have perished, 

Bright hopes within my breast, 
Yet one that I must cherish 

Is that she's with the blest. 
"We liope to meet thee, mother, 

On Heaven's far-oflt' shore. 
Yes, meet and greet thee, mother, 

Where we shall part no more. 

MES. M. A. GANTT. 

IN MEMORIAM. 

Of all the heart may claim on earth, 

Above, beyond all other. 
In way of sacred hearts to love 

It is an own dear mother. 
Yet life is such we all must die 

And pass beyond the river. 
And break all kindred ties of life, 

Forever and forever. 

Oh, thus to sadly give her up, 

As children sometimes suffer. 
May hardly realize their fate 

In losing dearest mother. 
Yet just beyond the vale of death, 

Dear friends are waiting truly. 
And there will greet us as we come 

As Heaven's fondest duty. 



284 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MORTALIIY. 

My neighbors aredjingand passing away, 

And much I've cherished in youth, 
With friends and kindred that's dying so 
fast, 
They 'waken mortality's truth. 
As pilgrims, as strangers, we march on 
the way, 
As soldiers far out on the plain. 
As brothers that are passing, parting and 
sighing. 
We mortals are doing the same. 

Down deep m the heart may cherish sad 
tears. 

O'er withering death and decay, 
The death that severs the circles of friends, 

When loved ones are taken away. 
How sadly they pass and go from our 
midst, 

Are wafted safe up to their God, 
The immortal lives, the mortal must die, 

Left moldering under the sod. 

Oh, terrible death, it makes the heart sad 

To think of its victims of worth 
Can never repay or give in return 

An equal for loved ones of earth. 
But yet we must bear, the heart must 
endure 

The losses of death and decay. 
And feel in the heart 'tis all for the best, 

The Lord of the soul will repay. 




MOliTALiTi'.-PAGE yai. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. : 

MRS. F. A. CARTER. 
IM memoriam. 
Of every tree and flower, 

That spring up from the earth, 
Hath truly in their nature 

A purpose in their birth. 
And thus with mortal human 

As transient as the tree, 
Hath likewise some good purpose 

For its eternity. 

They come, they bloom, they perish, 

All common in their way. 
And serve some given purpose, 

However brief their stay. 
So let us know life's mission, 

And strive to do the best, 
That we may sweetly merit 

The title to be blest. 

FATHER IS DEAD 
My father, O, my father, 

Is sleeping now in death, 
The sleep that knows no 'wak'ning 

And knows no earthly breath. 
He's gone to meet my mother 

On heaven's far-off shore, 
Where they shall live forever, 

And they shall part no more. 

My father and my mother 

Hath left me all alone. 
And now are with the spirits 

Where spirits do not mourn. 
Oil when I reach those portals. 

When this sad life is done, 
My father and my mother 

Shall greet me when I come. 



286 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MKS. FANNIE PEINCE. 

IN MEMORIAM. 

This life is like a shadow 

That moves and passes on, 
And leaves no trace behind it 

As proof where it has gone. 
And shades that follow substance, 

The substance must decav, 
And all is unsubstantial 

That's doomed to pass away. 

Oh. how each life is sinking 

From all its ties so dear, 
Down into oblivion, 

Ne'er to re-appear. 
But yet beyond the sinking 

There's hope eternal bright, 
A promise of the future 

That all will there be right. 

MKS. FANNIE MOAD. 
Oh, deep within the mortal heart 

Life's sorrows may descend, 
When fate has yielded up to death 

Another cherished friend. 
'Tis death that breaks the warmest ties 

That bind true hearts to earth. 
And wafts them from this mortal sphere 

To climes of purer worth. 

The deeds we do they truly live 

Beyond this earthly sun, 
And far beyond this life and derth 

Are treasured all we've done. 
Yes, silent, sadly, in this life 

The true ones pass away. 
And welcome us to follow on 

To life's eternal day. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

MKS. E. L. PRICE. 

IN MEMORIAM. 

How true to life its living, 

That life must pass away, 
And hardly leave impressions 

Behind it that will stay. 
So brief, so frail, so transient, 

Is all in life we do, 
That life seems hardly prompted 

To labor and be true. 

But yet it is with many, 

The worthy and the good 
Have tried to do their duty 

In every way they could. 
And they who labor faithful 

Shall conquer and be blest. 
When they shall anchor safely 

Upon the shores of rest. 



MEN^S WIVES. 
Men's wives, men's wives, of great and 
small 

Are women, yet men's wives, 
May talk to husbands, other men, 

And rule them with surprise. 
But wlien the darlings try to reign, 

And try to wear the breeches. 
They should remember man was made 

To needle with his stitches. 



8 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

MRS. F. M. DELAYEEGNE. 

IN MEMOEIAM. 

One more has left us sadlv, 

One more has passed away, 
Was called from earth forever 

To everlasting day. 
She was n)y friend and teacher, 

A teacher of my youlh, 
She taught me in my childhood 

Her noble thoughts of truth. 

But she has past forever, 

We cannot see her now. 
And deatii has moved the trials 

That wore upon her brow. 
Her ti'ials now are over, 

And busy cares of earth 
No longer act as burdens 

Upon her heart of worth. 

Yes, she is with her Savior, 

With angels bright and fair, 
With Jesus, her redeemer. 

Who heard her words of prayer. 
Her heart it is contented 

With spirits of the blest, 
And clothed in spirits' garments. 

Their immaterial dress. 

Her features are immortal 

Thro' one eternal day, 
Where God, the light of Heaven, 

Drives darkness all away. 
And all is pure and holy, 

The fairest and the best, 
As nothing enters Heaven 

That Heaven would detest. 



ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 

Oh, Heaven, endless Heaven, 

That city of the soul, 
That city of all riches, 

With happiness untold. 
The honje, the source, the center, 

The fountain of the jmre. 
Where love and peace and mercy 

Dwell safelj and secure. 

The home of God eternal, 

The center of the wise, 
Beyond the bounds of mortal, 

Its liighest to arise. 
Where life has its existence, 

The mind and sou! of man, 
So ])rcperlj adapted 

To that celestial land. 

Adapted to its nature, 

Whei'e wisdom may unfold 
The beauties of all science, 

The science of the soul. 
Oh. it must be delightful, 

Where spirits are divine, 
Where God in all his wisdom 

Hath honored the design. 

The Lord lialh ])lanned it proper- 

And made it for the best. 
Where hiorlals when immortal 

May Ix! forevi'i' blest. 
Oh, when v, c reacli those poi'tals, 

The li(;ut may Kellci- ki.ow 
How grt>at is (-iod Almighty. 

On that eternal shore. 



290 ALLEN DORM AN' S POEMS. 

Yes, when we sweetly anchor 

Upon the shores of time, 
My teacher, tlien more thorough, 

May teach of things divine. 
Yes, teach of things immortal, 

And far and near explore 
The beauties of all teachings, 

Far better than before. 

The same God who made mortals, 

Made Heaven, earth and air. 
And gave them law and order, 

Consistent with His care. 
And we are all His beings, 

And subject to His will, 
Adapted to some duty. 

His purpose to fulfil. 

And thus we all should labor. 

And do life's duty well. 
And reap its coming harvest 

Its own reward will tell. 
They tell us God is spirit. 

That souls are spirits too. 
That in them there is merit. 

If we but only knew. 

Death's fathoms, we shall know them, 

When we are called to die. 
The mysteries of Heaven, 

Its gloi'ies there on high. 
So let us gain that Heaven, 

"Where weary hearts may rest. 
Though it may cost us trials. 

To be forever blest. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 291 

MISS MAGGIE SALMON. 

IN MEMORIAM. 

One more with the departed, 

One more with Heaven's blest, 
One more is now with spirits, 

The fairest and the best. 
One more with souls immortal, 

Beyond this world of care, 
And in that f ar oflF city, 

Is with the angels fair. 

She is with God, her Savior, 

Immortal and divine. 
Where temples old and lasting, 

Wear not away with time. 
Her stay with earth is ended, 

She knows her own reward, 
Her home is now eternal, 

Contented with her Lord. 

She knows the thoughts of angels, 

She knows what we shall know 
When life its stay is ended, 

And we are called to go. 
Her heart is now celestial, 

Her eyes no longer blind 
To see and know the wonders 

Upon the shores of time. 

Her stay on earth was transient. 

And like the fallen leaf 
That falls to earth decaying, 

Through its own nature brief. 
She had a heart to labor 

In duty and in care, 
Her name we called it Maggie, 

Her beauties they were fair. 



292 ^LLEN DORMAN S POEMS. 

Her deeds wei-e those of kindness, 

With those who knew her best, 
Her life was one of duty. 

And hearts were truly blest. 
Yet God hath need of worthy, 

He claims them as his own, 
To brisjht adorn the circles 

Of his immortal home. 

Her heart is gone forever, 

Her presence is not here, 
In Heaven with the angels, 

Hath found a nobler cheer. 
There God is truly mindful 

Of each and every heart. 
And gives the angels blessings 

That never can depart. 

Yes, she has gone to gladden 

The loved ones gone before, 
And taken with her spirit 

The beauties that she wore. 
Her heart was turned to meet them. 

The loved ones she had known. 
And bright in Heaven greet them, 

Her kindred and her own. 

Oh, sweet will be the meeting 

Of kindred hearts above, 
Where all is peace and safety, 

And everlasting love. 
We hope to meet thee, Maggie, 

With loved ones gone before. 
Yes. meet and greet thee, Maggie, 

When we shall reach that shore. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 293 

MISS ANNIE PARKS. 

IN MEMOKIAM. 

Another friend and schoolmate, 

Has passed from earth away, 
And joined the happy angels, 

Forever there to stay. 
In death she sweetly slumbers, 

The sleep that knows no wake, 
The sleep of features mortal. 

Her soul it could not take. 

She left what ties were earthly, 

The way w^e all must do, 
To gain the strands of Heaven 

"With happy angels true. 
Her heart was kind to others, 

Her beauties they weio fair. 
Yet God most sought her kindness, 

To cheer His presence there. 

Her heart was true and w^orthy, 

Her deeds were those of love. 
Yet God had need of worthy, 

To dwell with him above. 
And all of earth that's sacred, 

Its highest and its best. 
Belongs to Heaven proper. 

The center of the blest. 

Oh. Heaven is eternal. 

Its climes forever new, 
Tlie center and the fountain 

Of all that's good and pure. 
So may we all be gathered, 

When life its work is done, 
Unto the Lord in Heaven, 

Without the loss of one. 



894 ALLEN DORMAN'S ror.MS. 

MISS MATTIE SNELLING. 

IN MEMOKIAM, 

How soon this life its journey 

Must perish as relief, 
And take from earth the spirit, 

Its staj however brief. 
The young, the fair and worthy, 

Must yield to nature's sway, 
The nature of our being, 

And with it pass away. 

And all we hold as sacred, 

And all we call our own. 
Must yield to death its nature, 

And sink in death's unknown. 
One more with the departed, 

One weary seeking rest. 
One spirit more in Heaven, 

One more with Heaven's blest. 



MISS BIKDIE MAXWELL. 
The good, the true, the worthy, 

The lovely and the fair, 
Have in their lives a purpose, 

That's interwove with care. 
We know by things around us, 

That life must meet its death, 
And take from earth forever 

AH vital bloom and breath. 

The fairest of companions, 

Of college and of home. 
The Lord saw fit to summons 

Unto his favored own. 
And thus the Lord will gather. 

All who his word obey. 
Unto himself in glory 

To live eternally. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 295 

MISS CALLIE MURPHY. 

IN MEMORIAM. 

The trne, the bright, the beautiful, 

The best that God hath made, 
Must be transplanted unto him. 

Where features do not fade. 
Yes, all that's worthy, good and true, 

When God shall claim His own. 
And all He claims must go to Him, 

And there be gathered home. 

Earth's hopes they blast, and features fade, 

And all around so free. 
Are luring with us hast'ly on 

To one eternity. 
Miss Callie, yes, a cherished light, 

Of college and of home. 
Yet God had need to claim her His, 

In Heaven as His own. 

MISS BIRDIE LUCAS. 
Oh yes, the bloom of summer, 

With all its promise gay 
Is but a dream of fancy 

That soon must pass away. 
The fair, the gay, the lovely, 

With all the bloom of youth, 
Has not a hope or promise, 

That can evade this truth. 

And thus the pride of parents, 

Of college and of home, 
Has left them as a pilgrim. 

That could not take its own. 
But then she goes to Heaven, 

That far-off city fair. 
And there will truly greet us. 

When we shall meet her there. 



296 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

MISS EMMA WILLIAMS. 

IN MEMOEIAM. 

Yes, all that bloom in season 

Or 'wakens from the gionnd, 
Or has the form of hiiiuan. 

Mortality is found. 
And all the good and worthy, 

However high in trust, 
That's subject unto earthly 

Shall soon return to dust. 

And all the good and faithful. 

The lunnble and the true, 
That blcom like lovely flowers 

Must fade like flowers do. 
But yet there is in human 

That part of life that lives, 
And has a claim eternal 

Which God of human gives. 

MEET ME, MOTHER 

Meet me, mother, meet me, mother, 

On that far-offshore. 
Safe beyond all pain and dying 

Where we'll part no more. 
I am coming, meet me, mother 

In that world so fair. 
Oh, my mother, O dear mother, 

How I need thy care. 

Oh, IVe suffered at thy leaving. 

In my bosom deep. 
Yet I know 'tis not thy wishes 

That thy son should weep. 
Meet me, njothei'. greet me mother, 

With thine own true hand. 
Gladly show me things so wondrous. 

In that blissful land. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. f.PT 

NAPOLEON BONAPAETE. 

Of all great men who ever lived 

In this great world of ours, [hearts 

There's none that's swayed more human 

In conquest with eartii's powers 
He awed the world with monarch force, 

More dreadful than a flood, 
Was cannon fright along his trail 

That flowed with human blood. 

Oh, shall who fought to check his march 

Still hope for victory, 
Or shall their w^ounds go unrevenged 

Out in eternity ? 
Yet he was great, we call him great, 

As his great actions show, 
He often tried to do the right 

To overcome life's foe. 



N. P. WILLIS. 

In looking at the men of worth, 

The men who lived for right, 
There seems to be around their lives 

A burning glow of light. 
A glow that makes their names sublime 

By what they've done and said. 
Because their hearts have blest the world 

While they are with the dead. 

And thus their lives are monuments 

Of blessings on the earth. 
And all their deeds that make them great 

Are gems of honored w^ortli. 
And thus we all should lessons learn 

From great men good and true, 
And try to imitate their w^ays 

In work we have to do. 



298 ALLEN DOEMANS POEMS. 

NANCY JANE. 
Miss Nancy Jane, O Nancy Jane, 

If I was sweet like thee 
I'd charm the single men around 

And have them all love me. 
I'd keep the market on a boom, 

And sweetly charm the men. 
And frighten all the other girls, 

And neither ask nor lend. 

Oh, Nancy Jane, O Nancy Jane, 

If I could charm like thee 
I'd never let another girl 

Obtain a start of me. 
Yes, I would court and dream and dress, 

And love with sweet adore. 
And cultivate my pretty charms. 

And charm forevermore. 



NATURE'S STORE. 

Nature's store is all around. 

And nature's healing health 
May well repair life's healing parts. 

If we but knew its wealth. 
The fields around have treasures rare, 

The forest and the plain 
Are richly stocked with medicines 

That heal life's every pain. 

The sunshine is a fountain store, 

The minerals of the earth. 
With roots and plants are remedies, 

If we but knew their worth. 
Then wisdom learn of all around, 

Tlie flowers and the tree, 
As God hath placed them for man's good, 

And placed the good things free. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. SOO 

NOT THE NAME. 
I knew a man, an honest man, 

He labored all the day, 
And sought the good that he could do, 

And in the proper way. 
He sought the right and proper road 

That leads to honest fame. 
And tho' his heart was often praised, 

He did not seek the same. 

He held no malice in his heart, 

No hatred in his soul, 
And lived a life of usefulness. 

From youth till he was old. 
He labored for a worthy cause, 

And lived to serve the same. 
His deeds were those of eminence. 

But did not seek the name. 

He labored with an honest lieart, 

And was a useful man, 
And lived to serve humanity. 

And lend a helping hand. 
As wise and good do noble deeds. 

He surely did the same. 
While some are praised for what they do 

Ho did not seek the name. 

So let us labor for the right 

Till brighter days shall dawn, 
That when the Lord shall claim his own. 

May find each toiling on. 
The Lord who watches all we do, 

Each deed of love or blame. 
Will give us credit for the good. 

Regardless of the name. 



300 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

NOAH WEBSTER. 

Noah Webster, Noah Webster, 

Like a star of light, 
Shedding fortli its rajs of lustre 

Through the darkest night. 
Yes, a star to shine for ages, 

Tlirongh the wear of time, 
Fadeless in its brilliant lustre, 

Like a world sublime. 

Yes, a heart of rarest merit, 

And of purest worth, 
Wisely wrought its worthy labors 

While upon the earth. 
Thus we all should do our duty, 

While its not too late, 
Striving to be good and useful 

Like the true and great. 

NOT ACCEPTED. 

You have sent your angry message 

Unto one so far away, 
And she deems your efforts worthless, 

Or but trifles of a day. 
You have sought to sway her feelings, 

Through your efforts plain and bold, 
But perhaps have not considered 

That to her your words are cold. 

She will not accept your message 

And she'll never claim it true, 
Slie has rights and they are sacred, 

She has rights as well as you. 
Not the rights of mere rejecting. 

But the rights to do the right, 
And to rue your angry message. 

But accept you with delight. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 301 

NOT GUILTY. 
Yes, anything is fair in love, 

And love is always fair, 
When courting davs are courted out 

With prudence and with care. 
So little lovers should be sharp 

And have their plans run smooth, 
And never make mistakes at all 

When jokes will answer truths. 

Tho' you should make a big mistake, 

Don't let your guilt appear, 
But try and smuggle up all clues 

And guilty looks of fear. 
Don't let your rivals Und it out, 

For they M-ill tell on you, 
And they will try to do you up, 

And beat you acting true. 

NATUKE TAUGHT. 
Nature taught my pretty girl 

To love me all she can. 
And have a special love for me 

Instead another man. 
Yes, nature taught her how to live 

And think so much of me, 
That I am glad that nature is 

The thing its thought to be. 

Her love it seems spontaneous, 

And center in her breast, 
That nature must have put it there, 

The sweetest and the best. 
She loves me true and acts her part, 

And seems so good and kind. 
That I am proud to know she has 

Those notions in her mind. 



302 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

NO ONE CAKED FOR ME. 

Once this heart was weak and weary, 

Once was broken and was sad, 
No one sought to help it friendly, 

No one sought to cheer it glad. 
Though I often met with persons 

Who were favored and were f ">, 
But they told me by their actions 

That they did not care for me. 

I was poor and I was troubled, 

Knew my earthly lot was sad, 
Often has my heart been weary, 

Troubled with some persons bad. 
Yes, this heart has felt the losing 

Of the hopes it cherished free, 
All because some hearts were strangers, 

And they did not care for me. 

Though I passed thro' crowds of people, 

Thro' the throngs of busy men. 
No one spoke a word of kindness. 

No one knew me as a friend. 
Oh, the trials of an author. 

Or of him who tries to be 
Wretched, hated and forsakened. 

No one thought to care for me. 

Oh, the grief and mental anguish 

Tiiat I've suffered day by day, 
Simply through neglect of others 

Who refused their sympathy. 
When my heart was young at trying, 

When it sought a future free. 
And when I was in my troubles, 

Often no one cared for me. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 303 

ONLY A WISH. 
Only a wish tliat life was young, 

Only a wish of youth, 
Only a dream of what has been, 

Only a thought of truth. 
Only a wish that life could be 

What its youth has been, 
And feel as youth has often felt, 

Without a care within. 

Only a wish, a lone, sad wish, 

Only a wish to be 
The same that youth has sweetly been, 

When it was bright and free. 
Only a wish, a sad, sad wish, 

For what was once life's own, 
A wish that life could see and claim 

The good things life has known. 

OLD BALKY. 
Old Balky was an old bay mare. 

And clumsy in her walk. 
She lost her instinct how to pull, 

But saved it how to balk. 
Her heart was full of balky tricks. 

While working in the road 
She thought to balk at every hill, 

And would not pull her load. 

She'd turn her head and look around 

At every balking place. 
As if she only wished to see 

The f I'own upon your face. 
Like Judas, for his sins of old. 

The pond was her death-bed. 
When brother John proclaimed the news, 

" Old Balky mare was dead. " 



V 



304 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

ONCE FRIENDLY. 

Oh, worthy friend, thou hast been dear 

To me in days of yore. 
But this heart is turned away, 

And seeks thy help no more. 
Yes, I must say thou hast been good, 

Thy heart it has been dear, 
When other friends deseiled me 

Tliou freely came so near. 

It fills mine eyes with bitter tears 

To tell thee thou may go, 
For thou hast been my dearest friend 

When others were my foe. 
But be our troubles as they may, 

Wherever I may be, 
ril hold it true in memory, 

Thou hast been dear to me. 



ONE PURPOSE. 

One hope, one aim, one purpose, 

One object and design. 
One lieart with soul and body, 

One motive in the mind. 
One rule, one hope, one system, 

One practice that I can. 
One habit and one council 

Will make a mighty man. 

And thus the Lord intended 

The heart should toil in need, 
And gave life rules and systems, 

By which it may succeed. 
And if we do life's duty. 

And labor for the best, 
And serve one purjiose truly, 

That purpose will be blest. 



ALLEN DOUMANS POEMS. 305 

OUT-RUN THE HORSE. 

First settlers of this countrj 

Disputed Indians' rights, 
And tliey would often battle, 

And have some awful fights. 
The Indians all were tricky, 

And white men tricky too. 
And when one got advantage. 

Would put the other through. 

But white men were good marksmen 

On running or the wing. 
And with their specks and rifles, 

Could hit most anything. 
They often shot to practice, 

With steady nerve and aim, 
When Indian man was target, 

Was sure to liit the same. 

A white man, once out hunting. 

Espied an Indian chief, 
And thought he'd steal the Indian 

And be an Indian thief. 
But Indian man objected. 

He could not see the point, 
For he was good at running, 

And quick at every joint. 

The white man sought to capture 

The big, old Indian chief, 
And bring him down to justice, 

For liis bad unbelief. 
The white man was on horseback, 

A racer number one, 
While Indian chief was walking, 

But ready for the run. 



306 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

They ran a lengthy distance. 

Perhaps a mile or more, 
And ended off convincing 

The Indian was before. 
He out-run horse tlie racer, 

With both eyes open wide, 
He reached the brush securely. 

Where he could safely hide. 

His feet proved his salvation. 

The Indian chief went free. 
And then thanked the great spirit 

For his sweet liberty. 
It was a case of logic, 

A case to understand, 
Where Indian chief, big Indian, 

Was better than white man. 



ONE FOR AN AUDIENCE. 
I'll preach to thee, darling, 

Sweet doctrines of truth, 
As thou the best audience 

IVe had since my youth. 
I'll quote my text proper. 

The sweetest and best, 
A passage to cherish 

Of love in the breast. 

The words of my sermon, 

Let never depart. 
And take up collection. 

Of love for the heart. 
I'll preach to thee, darling. 

Of doctrines above. 
The doctrines of doctrines, 

Sound doctrines of love. 



Oi^LY A DREAM. 

Unly 6 dream, a sweet, sWeet dream, 

Wlier^ hopes and joys were found, 
Wliere flowers 'mid the bloom of youth 

Were lovely all around. 
Wliere life was sweet and cares were few, 

And naiure smiled with love, 
And where the sun, so clear and bright, 

Was shining high above. 

Where all was peace and hope and praise, 

And everything was bright, 
And where each face was fresh and new 

With beauty and delight. 
Oh, it was sweet to |ream such dream. 

It made the bosom glad, 
And though it brightened all its hopes. 

It left the bosom sad. 

Yes, life has known such real dream, 

And thoughts of distant yore, 
Has left behind that peace of mind 

Which then was bright before. 
There is no heart, however cold, 

However far from truth. 
But what has had some time in life 

A pleasant dream of youth. 

ONCE BRIGHT. 
Once the hopes of youth were bright, 

Full of song and praise. 
And the cares of life were light 

In those distant days. 
Once bright were the sports of youth, 

Yes, in more than name, 
But it is a solemn truth, 

They'll not come again. 



30b ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

ONLY A LESSON. 
Only a lesson by the way, 

Taught by one so true, 
Only a lesson wc should keep, 

Taught for me and you. 
In this wide world one so kind, 

Sowing kindness free, 
Sowing kindness every day, 

Yes, for you and me. 

She WJ18 kind and good to all 

When their hearts were sad, 
She was helpful unto them 

That they may be glad. 
So it is on life's dark way 

If we rue the blame, 
And we scatter deeds of love, 

We shall reap the same. 

OLD MEMORIES. 
Old memories, old memories. 

How true to life they come. 
And bring to mind some lost event 

Of things we've seen or done. [act, 
Some deed, some play, some hope, some 

Some sport of days gone by. 
When brought forth plain in mtmory 

May seem to be so nigh. 

Old memories, old memories. 

Though often written deep 
On moldy pages of the heart, 

Are sacred things to keep. 
Yet in them there is hope revived, 

Sweet pleasures and content. 
That bids our feelings not be sad. 

If life has been well spent. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 309 

OLIYER CROMWELL. 
Like the stars that shine above us, 

Thro' a boundless world of night, 
Are the lives of noted persons 

Whose illustrious deed are bright. 
Yes, their lives are true examples 

Unto those who know their ways, 
And their worthy deeds should merit 

Of the world its honored praise. 

Cromwell, Cromwell, worthy Cromwell, 

England's chieftain in the right, 
Wisely fought its trying battles 

With his vah)r and his might. 
Thus we all should be like Cromwell, 

In that we have wars to gain. 
Struggle to be good and useful, 

And be great in deed and name. 

OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 

The great men and the useful men 

Who make their mark in life. 
Have often had to wend their way 

High over loss and strife. 
But they have dared to live and try, 

And sought to overcome, 
^Till life it found a pleasant task 

lo know what it had done. 

And thus it is, we all may live 

In trying to be right, 
May overcome in what is good, 

And make life's journey bright. 
And life's good deeds will help the world. 

If we but only try. 
May make the world a better world 

Pefore we come to die, 



310 ALLEN DOUMAN'S POEMS. 

ANDREW JOHNSON. 
There is a charm about the lives 

Of great and wortliy men, 
Who leave with us their useful lives 

To help us and befriend. 
In striving to be true and great, 

And living to be right. 
They leave around their honored names 

A constant glow of light. 

And thus we all should strive to live, 

Like honored men of fame, 
That we may like them, useful be, 

And build up life and name. 
We learn that they have often tried, 

Through trial and through grief, 
And truly conquered in the end, 

When blessings brought relief. 

PATRICK HENRY. 
The sway of genius may attain 

A stand immortal high. 
And build a name up in the world, 

That will not easy die. 
May build a name to bless the world, 

To live and firmly stay. 
And stand securely when all else 

Has fell or passed away. 

And thus with Mr. Henry, great. 

His genius will endure, 
For it was built upon the rights, 

The world will make secure. 
His name will long defy the storms, 

Securely and sublime. 
Like other great and honored names, 

That glow through age and time. 



ALLEN DORMAN S POEMS. 811 

PHINEAS FLETCHER. 
The light that glows about the lives, 

Of great and worthy men, 
May prompt a feeling in the heart, 

Our lives may likewise end. 
Yes, once their hearts were frail and weak, 

And feeble like our own. 
But striving to be eminent. 

They made life's purpose known. 

And thus it is that we may live, 

And make life's purpose great. 
If we but toil like they have done. 

Before it is too late. 
So let us try and useful live, 

And labor to befriend, 
That we may make life's purpose known, 

Like great and useful men. 

PLATO. 
Men whose deeds are great and worthy. 

And whose hearts are greater still. 
Shed forth light of fame and honor 

From the stations that they fill. 
They are known as great and useful, 

By the labors they have done, 
And each life shines through the ages. 

Like some star or brilliant sun. 

They are known, they are remembered. 

All their worthy deeds are new, 
And we honor them for labors 

They have wrought so well and true. 
Let us then improve the moments, 

Let us labor as we should, 
That our lives may likewise merit 

Stations like the great and good. 



312 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

FRANKLIN PIERCE. 
The men whose lives have bless'd the world 

By helping it aright, 
And teaching principles of worth, 

Have made their own deeds bright. 
Great men are frequent self-made men, 

And self-made mnu are best. 
Because they strive to useful live, 

That others may bo blessed. 

They teach the world by what they'vedone, 

What other hearts may do, 
If they would only dare to try, 

And labor h»ng and true. 
The starions now of public trust 

That show the worth of men, 
Will be for other hearts to fill, 

If they are ready then. 

PARTING PILGRIMS. 

This life is one great journey, 

As o'er a distant plain. 
Where hearts are constant passing, 

To never meet again. 
Yes, pilgrims heie are parting, 

And some no more to meet, 
While on and on they journey 

With worn and weary feet. 

They have in this great journey, 

Some constant a/m in view. 
Some hope, some wish, some purpose. 

They eagerly pursue. 
So while we here may journey. 

With some bright hope or aim, 
As pilgrims we should cherish 

The hope to meet again. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 313 

POMPEY. 
The good that great men do so well, 

Is felt when they are dead, 
If they have blessed humiinity 

By what they've done or said. 
They leave behind with public lives 

Some help or useful deed, 
That other hearts may wisely reap 

A help in time of need. 

And thus, the great men of the world, 

In some way bless the earth, 
By meeting well a public want 

Of merit and of worth. 
They show the world what they have done. 

And teach what hearts may do. 
If other hearts will only try. 

And labor wise and true. 



PETER COOPER 
The public men who bless the world, 

In wise and useful ways. 
Should merit of humanity. 

Its honor and its praise. 
Too much at best may not be said, 

Of men of useful deeds, 
Whose hearts are great philanthropists 

At meeting public needs. 

They bless the world by helping it. 

In working shrewd and wise, 
And prompting schemes that bring about 

Great booms of enterprise. 
Oh, would to God we had more men 

Of Peter Cooper's worth. 
To show and teach to other hearts 

How they could bless the earth. 



114 ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 

ANDREW JACKSON. 
To reach the stage of president, 

In this extensive land, 
The heart must watch, and earnest try 

Most every way it can. 
Oh, yes, indeed, the heart must toil, 

If 'twould be termed great. 
And rule a nation wise and well, 

In spite of foe and fate. 

The lesson is that we must toil, 

If we would hope to be 
Like great and wise and useful men, 

Whose lives were bright and free. 
The great men who have blest the world. 

Behind their thrones of fame. 
And made this world a better world, 

Have known much care and pain. 

CHESTER A. ARTHUR. 

All public men of public deeds. 

Who reach the stations high, 
And fill such places wise and well, 

Have had to toil and try. 
Yes, they have had to labor true. 

And do their duty right, 
To leave a record in the world. 

And make their labors bright. 

And thus it is young hearts may live. 

And have the future show 
What stations they may occupy, 

In this dark world below. 
Each heart in life has special work, 

A purpose to fulfil. 
Some station it may occupy. 

If it will act "I will" 



AJiLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 316 

PKOF. E W. STOWELL. 

IN MEMORIAM. 

My faithful teacher sleeps in death, 

He taught me in my youth, 
His mission was to help the world 

And live a life of truth. 
He did his duty wise and well, 

While here upon the earth, 
And lived to bless humanity, 

Like other hearts of worth. 

His mission was to teach the world 

The good things taught to him, 
And tried to teach to thoughtful youth 

How they may blessings win. 
And thus we all should manly live, 

As each and every one 
Are builders of some useful work, 

Designed us to be done. 

POSSESSIONS. 
The heart may have possessions, 

Consigned to its command. 
It may be gold or silver, 

It may be house or land. 
The heart may crave possessions. 

And seek their fancied worth; 
Oh, how its tied to treasures. 

Mere atoms of the earth. 

Possessions, great possessions, 

The heart may idolize, 
It may be friends the dearest, 

It may be kindred ties. 
It may be hope of Heaven, 

It may be rank or name; 
Oh, varied are the treasures 

This earthly heart may claim. 



316 ALLEN DOXIMANS POEMS. 

PURSUITS. 

The human heart, if mindful, 

Pui'sues some promised gain, 
It may be real worthy. 

It may be hopeless vain. 
The heart with its ambitions, 

The fear that it may die. 
Its wishes and desires. 

Would prompt the heart to try. 

The heart pursues some promise, 

Some battle strive to win. 
It may be fields of merit. 

It may be weeds of sin. 
Of all we seek in harvest. 

Of culture or of gold. 
The wisest and the richest 

Is saving of the soul. 

PERSONALITIES. 

Personalities truly. 

In memory will stay. 
Till time its rude wearying 

Has moved tliem away. 
How often with persons 

We constantly meet. 
And glimpse of tlieir features 

The mind cannot keep. 

How often we ponder, 

We cannot have stay 
The features of persons 

That 're ]Kissing away. 
But yet there is promise 

Of meeting again. 
The likeness of features 

Earth cannot retain. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 317 

PLEASUKES. 
The heart may seek for pleasures, 

And often seek in vain, 
And pleasures sought from vices 

Are sure to end in pain. 
Earth's pleasures are so transient 

They leave when you are nigh, 
Like bubbles light and glossy 

They soon forever flj-. 

Oh. vain are earthly pleasures. 

They never with you stay, 
The further that you seek them 

The further are away. 
Deceitful as a vision. 

And enijity as a dream. 
If hunted are uncertain. 

And never what they seem. 

PATIENCE. 

Patience, honest patience. 

Is destined to gain, 
And come out conqueror 

Over foe and pain. 
Working long and constant, 

And with steady mind, 
Hopefully and truly, 

Leaves you not behind. 

Patience, earnest patience, 

Toiling constant right. 
Makes the duty easy 

And the joui-ney bright. 
Patience is the secret 

Of a life time's gain. 
As some grandest structures. 

Patience built the same. 



818 ALLEN DOBMAN'S POBMS. 

PUKITY. 

Purity of mind and manners 

Are the saints of Heaven, 
And a gem that should be sacred 

When to mortals given. 
Yes, a diamond of the bosom, 

Ever glowing brightly, 
Chaste in deed, in thought and action, 

Prompts the pilgrim rightly. 

POOR. 

Poor and wretched, without riches, 

May be rich with grace, 
Yet the poorly without promise 

Is the poorest place. 
Thus in life there's consolation 

With the rich and poor. 
Each may need the other's treasure 

To complete life's store. 

POWER 
Power may be good or evil, 

When controlled is great. 
As the power of the engine 

That propels its freight. 
Yes, there's power in the earthquake 

And the storms of night, 
When they spread their desolation 

O'er the promised bright. 

There is power in great battles 

That would awe the mind, 
And the worlds of mighty forces 

Moving on sublime. 
And there's power in the cannon, 

Kingdoms, thrones and gold. 
But the power that is greatest 

Is what saves the soul. 




PRINCE BISMARCK.- Page 319. 



ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 319 

POOR JOHN FITCH. 
Poor John Fitch, the great inventor, 

Tested till his heart was tried, 
All along through life he struggled, 

Walked that other hearts may ride. 
Served he true a world ungrateful 

By his own devoted hand, 
Gave the world the first steam engine 

That to-day rules sea and land. 

Lived he poor and lived he wretched, 

Doing what he thought was best, 
Hated, pitied and neglected 

That a cold world might be blest. 
But the great men of all ages 

Seem to realize the fate. 
That their claims for recognition 

Frequent sadly comes too late. 

PRINCE BISMARCK. 
Prince Bismarck, a man of power, 

And a mighty man of fame. 
Who has built by his own efforts 

Up a high and honored name. 
Yes, he sways a mighty nation 

Thro' his manly efforts great, 
That he often gains some measure, 

In the high affairs of state. 

He is great and he is worthy, 

He is wise in many ways. 
And he labors for positions 

That secure him worldly praise. 
But his greatness and his powers. 

If not used in ways of truth. 
May come short of lowly blessings. 

That are found in tl:( ughts of youth. 



Ban ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

PAUL JONES. 
The lives of men of valor teach, 

And unto otliers show, 
How perseverance may advance 

And overcome life's foe. 
Yes, show indeed what future bright 

May be for those who try, 
And thus encourage all young men 

To wisely build up high. 

PETER THE GREAT. 
Peter the Great, we call him great 

Because his name was so, 
Because he worked for what was right 

And overcome the foe. 
Who's not heard of Peter the Great, 

And hoped to be great too, 
They should learn of Peter the Great, 

Who lived to serve life true. 



PARDON ME. 
Pardon me, my gentle maiden, 

Pardon me now if you will, 
As we have been little lovers, 

And I trust you love me still. 
Thou art fair and thou art worthy, 

Thou art lovely all the day, 
Thou art blooming in thy beauties 

Like a honey sweet and gay. 

Pardon me, my little maiden, 

Let us try and love once more, 
Let us love each other truly 

As we have in days of yore. 
I can never love another 

While love's cherished hope is bright, 
So let's n)ake up and be lovers, 

Let us 6imi)lv do the right. 



ALLEN DOBMAN'S POEMS. 881 

PHILIP SIDNEY. 
Yes, the lives of noted persons 

Are examples unto men, 
For their labors and their triumphs 

Are the fruits of try again. 
God will bless the hearts of merit, 

Those who labor, those who try, 
And will help them reach the stations 

Up in life so bright and high. 

PROSPEROUS DAYS. 
The heart looks back with serious thought 

At once bright, prosperous days, 
When sweet success in business life 

Brought happiness and praise, [days, 
The prosperous days, sweet prosperous 

Their cherished thoughts are gems. 
And songs we sing are not complete 

Without some thought of them. 

PRAYER. 
Oh, Lord, the God of Heaven, 

The Lord of earth and air, 
I owe thee my petition 

And pour it forth in prayer 
Oh, hear my supplication 

In mercy and in love. 
And save me in thy Heaven, 

Eternally above. 

This earth is not my station. 

This earth is not my home, 
This earth is changing substance 

And goes in the unknown. 
Then save me, gracious Father, 

And take me to thy breast, 
And let me live in Heaven 

With angels and the blest. 



533 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

POOR MAN^S DAY. 
The ])0or man has his grief to bear, 

And has his times of fear, 
Yet well ho knows the hopes that come. 

For they may come with cheer. 
He has his share of sad and sweet, 

His duty is his day, 
He labors for the right to live. 

He toils for honest pay. 

And those who try the city life 

May find no better boon, 
But find their bills of house rent 

Come sure as comes the moon. 
They live and meet the stuns of life. 

And poor man's day must come. 
But then with death all men have days. 

When earthly days are done. 

PERPETUAL MOTION. 
I've heard my friend has been at work 

For several Sundays past. 
That he has turned philosopher. 

And sought the thing at last; 
It motioned up and motioned on. 

And motioned round and round, 
And motioned properly enough 

Until it motioned down. 

He fixed his model up to run, 

And showed it to his clerk. 
Who thought it like its projector, 

It was not made to work. 
Philosophers, philosophers. 

Philosophers so deep, 
Who long have for this motion sought, 

May longer let it sleep. 



ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 328 

PASSIKG AWAY. 

Come past, with all }'onr partings, 

Your sad and bitter teais, 
And tell me of the changes 

You've seen thro' passing years. 
Yes, come with life's conditions. 

And tell me what you may — 
How life is constant moving. 

And passing swift away. 

You've seen life sad and real, 

Its feelings fall and rise, 
You've seen the heart repenting, 

In deep and silent sighs. 
And though the heart may cherish 

Some hope of pleasures gay, 
Yet in them find the warnings. 

That pleasures pass away. 

Yes, passing, passing ever. 

And live content to learn. 
When life has past forever — 

Will never more return. 
The days of life are passing, 

And life can never stay 
On earth with all the changes, 

That changes life away. 

The birds that sing so sweetly 

And cheer the aching breast. 
Are passing with time's current, 

That never is at rest. 
And all that earth possesses, 

The beautiful and gay. 
That has an earthly nature 

Must with earth pass away. 



8S4 ALLEN DORMAN'S POKMS. 

The transient clouds of summer 

Are unsubstantial too, 
And passing with their shadows, 

As likewise earth must do. 
And on the banks of rivers, 

Where little children play, 
And see the waters moving, 

So life must move away. 

And on the fields of battle, 

The dying and the slain. 
May teach in deathly numbers 

That life is truly vain. 
And in the grave corroding, 

Where all that enters stay. 
Has fixed the doom of mortal, 

To die and pass away. 



PRETTY GIRLS. 

Sweet pretty girls, yes, pretty girls, 

The dearest ones on earth, 
We call them sweet because we know 

Just how to prize their worth. 
While thou art in the prime of youth, 

And flush with hope and praise, 
We love to see the pretty girls 

Enjoy their youthful days. 

Enjoy thy youth, it comes but once. 

Fair maiden, youth is thine. 
Improve thy days with mirth and praise. 

Thy season has its time. 
Yes, soon thy youth will all be past, 

And blessings are to win. 
When thou may sweetly meditate 

On what thy youth has been. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 3S5 

PRAISE OF MORN. 
'Tis sweet to see the praise of morn, 

Its smile on hill and tree, 
The sun that gladdens with delight. 

The song of birds so free. 
It cheers the heart to labor on 

For blessings through the day. 
That many good things of this life 

May not be thrown away. 

It frees tiie heart from heavy grief, 

And soothes its troubles o'er. 
And lures it on in usefulness, 

That it may grieve no more. 
The praise of morn is for us all. 

It comes but cannot stay, 
It comes for all who seek its health. 

At dawn of every day. 

Oh, it is sweet, yes, sweet indeed, 

To have sweet praises come, 
The praises that the morning brings 

At every rising suji. 
But life is such we may not see 

The praises of a day, 
Yet many praises often come. 

So nigh along the way 

Oh, what is life without its morn. 

Its hope, its love and praise. 
We gladly know and realize 

Through bright and sunny days. 
Oh yes, I love the praise of morn. 

For blessings that it brings. 
And teaches of a morn to come 

Beyond these earthly things. 



96 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

POOR MEN. 
Poor men we have among us, 

With worthy hearts and souls, 
More grateful in their dealings 

Than others who have gold. 
They favor us their kindness. 

And prove a help indeed, 
And honor us with favors 

Which we so often need. 

The poor man is a neighbor, 

For you his door is wide, 
And often in life's travels 

He kindly lets you ride. 
As pilgrims on the journey, 

He favors when he can, 
And kindly shows to others 

His mercies like a man. 

He visits you in sickness, 

And cheers the weary mind, 
And helps you as a neighbor. 

Because his heart is kind. 
His heart within is worthy, 

His kindness is complete. 
In seeing and in passing 

He knows you when you meet. 

Poor men are Heaven's chosen, 

Their feelings are the best, 
God tenders them his Heaven 

That Heaven may be blest. 
Down in their hearts they cherish 

True merit iis their own. 
And weal tiie reformations 

That honor God and home. 



ALLEN bORMAN'S POEMS. 327 

PLEASUKE AND PAIN. 

Sweet pleasures are mingled with sorrow, 

In all we do and we say, 
As life from its earliest childhood 

Has known thro' innocent play. 
There's never a pleasure or gladness 

That's free from trouble and pain, 
But find their solution in sadness, 

And show that pleasures are vain. 

The future may glitter with promise. 

With happiness and with song, 
Sweet roses and flowers may cheer us, 

And gladly hasten us on. 
Yet what we may see in the future 

May all be empty and vain, 
As fancies of life are deceitful, 

That knows no pleasure and pain. 

Sweet pleasures may gladder, us truly. 

As fancy may dream them o'er. 
Yet pleasures they often deceive us, 

And leave us worse than before. 
Thus pleasure and pain are united. 

As night that follows the day. 
So sorrow may follow the pleasure. 

And grief may follow the gay. 

So let us be true and be faithful. 

And winnow the good from wrong, 
Be mindful of pleasures deceitful 

That lurk in praises and song. 
And let us be true and in earnest, 

And welcome the future bright. 
Beyond life's mountain of sorrow. 

That shadow us here with night. 



328 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

PLEASANT DAYS. 
The pleasant days that often come, 

And little birds that sing, 
Are sure to 'waken in the heart 

The happy thoughts of spring. 
Oh, yes, I love tlie pleasant days, 

I love them truly best. 
They furnish blessings for the heart 

And prompt it to be blest. 

Oh give me days, sweet pleasant days, 

The sunny days so bright. 
And let my heart their blessings feel 

Thro' morning, noon and night. 
And cleanse my bosom free from care, 

And let it feel once more 
The joys and hopes of pleasant days 

Its felt in times of yore. 

The pleasant days, sweet pleasant days. 

Seem brighter as they come, [sing 

And thoughts they bring, the heart would 

Till pleasant days are done. 
Tiie sunny days, the pleasant days. 

With skies of azure hue, 
Reflect their myriad sunbeams round 

So lovely and so new. 

Give me the days I love the best. 

The sun its golden rays. 
And mornings that are emblems true 

Of that eternal day. 
'Tis God who gives us mornings bright, 

And gives us blessings free, 
To teach us of that pleasant morn 

Of bright eternity. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 32d 

PEOF. J. N. COOK 

IN MEMOKIAM. 

How sad the bells were tolling, 

How pale the students looked, 
How lone the scenes of morning, 

O'er death of Mr. Cook. 
The death-bells bore the tidings 

That Mr. Cook was dead, 
It was a dismal spectre 

That o'er the city spread. 

He was a man of merit 

In research and in thought, 
A teacher and a scholar 

In lessons that he taught. 
His tact, indeed, was thorough, 

In discipline and rule, 
And wise have been the lessons 

He's taught in Franklin school 

Oh, why should merit perish, 

The intellects so bright. 
The men who have the power 

To scatter seeds of light ? 
For O, the world it needs them, 

It needs their labors true. 
To dig from depths of merit 

The rich thoughts bright and new. 

But all that's dear and sacre^.. 

However bright their stay, 
However felt and needed, 

In death must pass away. 
And in that world forever 

We'll safely gather home, 
And sweet will be the meeting 

Of friends we here have known. 



330 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

POOR BUT TRUE. 
My worthy friend we meet once more, 

Thy hands are coarse and brown, 
You show by your plain looks and dress 

Hard times have pressed thee down. 
Your lot has been a bitter one. 

Of poverty and pain, 
You need not tell me how its been. 

Your features show the same. 

We've known each other in the past, 

Your kindness hath been dear, 
And those good times have been reviewed 

With many thoughts of cheer. 
But youth is gone and time has past, 

And we were called to part, 
And many sad, worn cares of life 

Have pressed each other's heart. 

Your lot was cast in poverty, 

But yet your heart was true, 
And while conditions used yon rough, 

Your heart has toiled it thro'. 
Hard times have brought thee many cares, 

And oft you've needed rest. 
But yet thy heart has ever sought 

To manage for the best. 

But I am pleased that we are here. 

And I am grateful too, 
That we to-night may see the past. 

And some good thoughts review. 
'Tis sweet to tell what life has been. 

And view its trials o'er, 
And sweetly let the thoughts go back 

To those good times of yore. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 831 

PKAISE. 
The heart delights to cherish 

The pleasant thoughts of praise, 
When given to life's credit 

Thro' bright and sunny days. 
Oh, yes, we love the praises 

Of hope and mirth and song, 
They fill tlie heart with pleasure. 

And lure it sweetly on. 

Oh, praises, yes, the praises, 

They lure and lift the soul, 
And 'waken thoughts of beauty 

Long hidden and untold. 
And well the heart may cherish 

The praise of friends so dear, 
It 'wakens thoughts and fancies 

So pleasing to the ear. 

God praises us in Heaven, 

And all who do the right, 
He promises the praises 

Of Heaven's home so bright. 
God is the source of blessings, 

Of praises and of worth. 
And we should praise him truly 

For blessings here on earth. 

The praises of our nature 

That 'waken in our breast, 
Make vanities so real 

That we are often blest. 
There is a hope in praises 

Of those we hold so dear, 
That often hearts are prompted 

To over-rate with cheer. 



332 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

QUEEN VICTORIA. 
The hearts of fame and honor 

Whose lives are like the snn, 
Have trials and temptations 

To meet and overcome. 
Like others they have duties, 

And chances to be right, 
If they would merit honors 

And make their actions bright. 

QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
However high this heart may be 

In culture or in fame, 
The dreads that try this mortal life 

Are very much the same. 
The king, the queen, the potentate. 

The honored and the bright. 
Have many duties to perform. 

If they would live upright. 

QUEEN OF THIS HEART. 
I love the queen of this my heart. 

For she is dear to me, 
And she is sacred to the part 

That needs her kindness free. 
She is the queen of this my breast, 

Her charms are gay and new, 
She makes me feel that I am blest 

With blessings sweet and true. 

Oh, sweet and pretty gentle queen. 

She is my lady fair. 
The sweetest damsel ever seen 

By mortal anywhere. 
Yes, I will love her true and dear, 

The same as in the past. 
And love will bring us hope and cheer. 

And make us one at last. 



ALLEN DORM.AN'S POE^:S. 333 

QUESTIOKS POPPED. 

You meet a man, a niairied man, 

He's lietad the question pop, 
He may not tell you how it was, 

Or what plan best ado] t. 
But then he's had it in his mind, 

With him its nothing new, 
For he lias conquered it outright 

And gave it justice too. 

You see the women, women, women, 

pome worn with age and care, 
Aud they perliaps have heard it pop 

When they Mere young and fair, [ped, 
Oh. questions popped .sweet questions pop- 

The race of man has popped, 
How love has tiaded love for love, 

And hearts with hearts Iiavo swapped 

KEFRESHING SHOWERS. 
Refi'eshing showers often come 

In spring and summer days, 
And waken brightand hopeful thoughts. 

Through nature's changing ways. 
Refreshing showers in country homes 

Revive new life and song. 
And 'wakens in sweet memory 

Xcw hopes to ciiecr us on. 

The sunlight thro' the azure sky, 

The showers floating through, 
Depict the rainbow on the clouds 

In all its golden hue. 
Oh, there are many things indeed, 

In nature all around, 
That teaches wisdom of the Lord 

So nigh and easy found. 



334 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

REYIYED HOPES. 
The sun once bright has rose again, 

And clouds have cleared away, 
And grief that rested on my breast. 

Has turned to golden day. 
This heart is free, and safely free 

From one long, heavy debt. 
That's been a burden to this iieart. 

But it has safely met. 

Yes, long and sad its been with me, 

I've suffered fear and pain. 
And tho' cast down with broken shield, 

I've labored not in vain. 
New hopes have come and I am free, 

I'll try to live once more, 
And feel that life is sweet to live. 

When hopes are bright before. 

Oh, who would rue when life is sweet. 

From hopes the heart would claim. 
And fail to act in season right, 

Or try to live again ? 
And fail to know what life may do, 

And fail to even try. 
And fail to labor on and on. 

When victory is nigh. 

The heart may droop in times of fear, 

And day be turned to night. 
Yet, just beyond those stormy clouds, 

The sun perhaps is bright. 
So let us live and let us try. 

And work for right and truth, 
That life may know in other years, 

It acted wise in youth. 



HEMEMBER ME. 
Oil, I pray remember me, 

Should I cross the ocean wide, 
Sailing o'er a troubled sea, 

Sailing for the other side. 
Should my lot this portion be, 

Then I pray remembei- me. 

If I march thro' battle's rage, 
Fighting in a foreign land. 

See the scenes that histories page. 
And the deeds that wars demand; 

If such harrows thus I see, 
Truly then remember me. 

Yes, when I am far away, 

Should I feel that life is vain. 

If I go and if I stay. 

Let us hope to meet again. 

If I'm thus so far from thee, 
Will you then remember me? 

Yes, dear, when I'm called to go, 
And be absent from your sight, 

And to toil thro' sleet and snow. 
And the wintry storms of night j 

If I suffer far from thee, 

Then I pray, remember me. 

Should I live thus far from you, 
While at home you nobly stay. 

Should I seek thy love so true, 
Do not court another gay. 

Should another sigh for thee, 
Then, O then, remember me. 



J ALLEN DORMAN'8 POEMS. 

ROSES. 
Oh yes, we love the roses, 

And love their fragrance free, 
For they are surely emblems 

Of bright eternity. 
They 'waken with the morning, 

In nature's sacred trust, 
And blossom in their glory. 

Yet they are only dust. 

Unlike the fragrant flowers, 

They have their thorn beneath, 
And charms we often cherish 

Have failings in the sheath. 
Yet God in all His wisdom, 

ITath made the roses fair. 
To teach us of tlie beauties 

The heart within should wear. 



ROUGH WOMEN. 

Rough women, void of culture, 

And don't know how to charm, 
May often make some blunders, 

lint then they mean no liarm. 
Somehow they can't get at it, 

And feel in part a dnnic, 
As culture in their habits 

With them has been postponed. 

But when you get them smitten. 

You have them mashed ti) stay, 
For they can love like lovers, 

To do it in their way. 
Rough hoosiers and rough women 

Can love most awful sick, 
And get right down to business, 

When they have learned the trick. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 337 

KEFUSED. 

Oh yes, I've been rejected, 

And ready for a rest, 
And 'mid my grief and troubles 

I sometimes think its best. 
The market is not cornered, 

Tliough I am lone and free, 
But how it has been quoted 

Is serious now with me. 

My maiden, yes, my maiden, 

Has left me all alone, 
And gone and chose another. 

And claims him as her own. 
She left me in the racket. 

It was an awful dare, 
And then returned my letters, 

The part I thought was fair. 

I know such thoughts are bitter, 

When others are untrue. 
And love is left the victim 

Of wrongs that others do. 
To love is not improper, 

And is no crime or sin, 
Tho' let it be a fizzle 

Is where the hurt come in. 

I'm through with market dealings, 

I'm through with c<iurting days, 
And through with broken bosoms, 

And all their trying ways. 
When woman is deceitful, 

Man never may be blessed: 
But learn these things in season, 

Is surely for the best. 



338 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

With those my heart has feelings 

Whose portion is the same, 
Whose hearts have mourned for others, 

Where others were to blame. 
And though my hopes are blasted 

I'm not ashanied to live. 
And though it makes me reckless, 

I'm ready to forgive. 

I hold no thoughts of malice, 

No hatred and no blame, 
Yet cherished hopes of future 

Have all been turned to pain. 
My portion has been bitter, 

Yet time alone will tell 
That God is God of mercy, 

And guideth all things well. 



ROBERT G. INGERSOLL. 
Come Robert G., don't be so bad. 

Don't fight the Christian cause. 
Don't mar your soul with sordid gold, 

Or turns in nature's laws. 
Your clues and points and trigger works. 

Are but the schemes of men. 
Your logic is not light at all 

On which souls may depend. 

Your doctrines and philosophy, 

You fix them to surprise. 
Yet God is your antagonist, 

And he will you survive. 
Your teachings tend to seal your doom, 

You fix them up so well. 
Yet all is right that ends right, 

If all don't end in hell. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 33 

RUINED FOR LIFE. 
My neighbor friend once on a time, 

When lie was young and gay, 
He was unlucky with his girl, 

And had the cost to pay. 
Yes, it was at the Baptist church, 

And at a singing school, 
That Frank received the mitten cold. 

As stubborn as a mule. 

He went to see Miss Alice fair. 

And meet her at the church, 
He did not think she'd slight him there, 

And leave him in the lurch. 
He did not think that girls were vain 

In much they do and say, 
And changeful as the fleeting years 

That makes us old and gray. 

Now Frank was innocent indeed, 

And wore his Sunday coat. 
His standing collar was a fit 

So nice around his throat. 
He asked Miss Alice, by the way. 

While standing at the door, 
If he could see her safely home 

When singing school was o'er. 

She told him there the best she could 

The words he wished to know, 
That she would meet his sweet request, 

If he was not too slow. 
But Cassus was a witty chap. 

And standing closely by. 
Declared he'd cut the rascal out. 

To see if he would die. 



340 ALLEN DOHMAN'S POEMS. 

Frank waited patienlly until 

Tlie singing school was out. 
And then he walked up to the front 

As it he had the gout. 
He had not more than reached the door 

To give tlie usual sign, 
Than O, he saw the fatal freak, 

That he was left behind. 

For Cassus was ahead of him 

By getting lier consent, 
He sharp and shrewdly cut him out, 

And caused him to repent. 
Poor Frank appealed to sobs and tears 

And said to those about, 
Tliat "it would take a hundred years 

To wear his troubles out." 

His friends spread out &ome overcoats, 

And made for him a bed; 
Poor Frank exclaimed while lying there, 
"He \\ished that Cass was dead." 
The maidens gathered round him there 

As sweet as sugar pie, 
As dc^ctors of another sex 

They said that "Frank would die." 

Novf this had been long years ago. 

In early days of youth, 
And time has broken our little band 

But saves this fearful truth. 
Now sli uld we try to tell the cause 

That made Frank sick and shame, 
We know of none except it be 

That Cassus was to blame. 



ALLEN DOBMANS POEMS. 341 

KEY. H. W. BEECHER 

Most all great men and all good men 

Are useful men indeed, 
When they supply it public want 

By helping public need. ^ 
Great men who use their manly strength 

To labor for the right, 
And wisely help humanity 

May make their own way bright. 

Their names are great and shining lights, 

Their deeds are gems of worth, 
We know them by their public deeds 

And what they do for earth. 
They teach the world, they help the world, 

They 'waken thoughts of light. 
And they are blessings for the world 

When they are in the right. 

There is a charm about their lives, 

We love to imitate, 
A reason why we honor them 

Because their names are great. 
It is an honor to be wise, 

In purpose and in will, 
And it is worthy to be great, 

But happy better still. 

REASON. 

There is reason in all dealings 

That concerns this life. 
But in dealing with unreason, 

'Wakens thoughts of strife. 
But your neighbor's heart will reason 

If you'll truly be. 
And will favor deeds of kindness 

Likewise unto thee. 



343 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

REDEEM HIM. 
Yes, go thou little maiden, 

You see your worthy friend, 
Go save him with the power 

You now may easy lend. 
Revive your hope and courage. 

And strive with all your might, 
To do your simple duty 

In trying to be right. 

Yes, if you strive in earnest, 

With purpose tinn and true. 
May thus redeem with kindness 

The heart so dear to you. 
Go help him in his weakness, 

His worthy heart so dear. 
And if your work is worthy 

You have no need to fear. 



RASH THOUGHT. 
Has man a soul eternal. 

Has man a soul within. 
That's put here to be tested 

With evil and with sin ? 
From dark abyss of nothing 

From whence he came untold, 
Thou maker and creator 

Has man an inner suul? 

There is a wise creator. 

Unseen by mortal eye. 
But do we know and truly 

The soul shall live or die. 
We cannot feel or see it, 

We may think right or ww)ng 
Of things we'll know if ever 

When mortal life is gone. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 343 

ROBERT BURNS. 
Oh, Robert Bums, yes, Robert Burns, 

Immortal Robert Burns, 
His name will last, it cannot die, 

While earth on axes turns. 
His life was one of usefulness, 

His efforts were not vain, 
His labors are destined to live 

And cherish his good name. 

Perpetual Burns, immortal Burns, 

Immortal and secure, 
How he's depicted in his M'orks, 

The changes life endures. 
His deeds have blest humanity, 

As its true, faithful friend, 
And thus it is that he shall live 

Within the hearts of men. 



RESPONSIBILITY. 
There is a work that each should do, 

Alloted to each heart, 
A debt it duly owes in life, 

It cannot rend apart. 
And true it is with every heart. 

Some work that it lias done 
May be responsible indeed 

For incidents that come. 



REVENGE. . 

Stubborn, angry is revenge. 

Burning with abhor. 
Seeking in some hurried way 

To have heated war. 
But it is a solemn fact. 

True, however strange. 
There are many foes of life 

That go unrevenged. 



344 ALLEN DOBMAN'S POEMS. 

RUTHERFORD B. HAYES. 

The great men in this moving world 

Who reach the stations high, 
And make themselves conspicuous, 

Have had to work and try. 
Yes, they have had to face the foe. 

And overcome defeat, 
Or dodge the push, like Rutherford, 

To take a questioned seat. 

Oh, yes, indeed, they've had to war 

To gain disputed ground. 
And overcome a valiant foe, 

That is not easy downed. 
And thus how true it is in life, 

The heart must faithful try 
If it would conquer and be blest, 

When it is called to die. 



ROBERT TOMBS. 
The great men who have overcome 

The trials of this life. 
And placed their Hags of victory 

Above the cares of strife. 
We hold their names in high respect 

As men among the few, 
For battles they have wisely fought, 

So manly and so true. 

Oh, yes, the'men who dare to live, 

And live to do the right. 
And battle wise to free the world 

From darkness and from night. 
And thus it is that we should live, 

And fight life's battles true, 
And strive to gain the victory 

In work we have to do. 



ALLEN DOUMAN'S POEMS. C4o 

KAINY DAYS. 

Thi8 life is portioned here below 

With trouble and with praise, 
And has alloted to each heart 

Both bright and rainy days. 
The rainy days they often come 

Like grief that makes ns sad, 
Yet they give place to brighter thoughts 

That come and cheer us glad. 

The rainy days, the gloomy days, 

They often come and go, 
And leave no trace in nature's sky 

That nature keeps to show. 
The heart may often weary feel, 

And lonesome for some praise 
That dreary times so often bring 

'Mid dark and rainy days. 

KEJECTED. 

Rejected, yes, rejected, 

A startling, serious fate, 
With one who had some trouble 

About a h)ss so great. 
Oh, yes, O yes, rejected, 

An awful, awful fail, 
A baclielor's affections, 

Wlio placed his heart for sale. 

RIGHTS. 

All men inherit equal rights, 

The lowly and the great, 
Have self and public moral rights. 

Whatever be their state. 
Yet highest rights we exercise 

Is sim|)ly living right. 
And wisely knowing where we'll live 

When after death's dark night. 



8M ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

EGBERT BLAIR. 

The great men of all ages past, 

Whose hearts have blest the earth, 
The useful works that thej have done 

Are monuments of worth. 
And thus it is that they are known 

By what their hearts have done, 
Each heart stands out a glowing light, 

Like some bright star or sun. 

And as a fruitful tree is known, 

How often do we find 
The human heart may thus be known, 

Its value and its kind. 
So let us choose to live and work, 

And from life's treasure give 
Its deeds of love and usefulness. 

Like those whose deeds shall live. 



RICHARD PROCTOR. 
There are men whose lives and labors 

Shine like great and burning suns, 
And are known for deeds of goodness. 

And for labors they have done. 
Yes, indeed, their lives and labors 

All were spent in doing good, 
And in wisely helping others, 

Honest as they truly should. 

Thus it was with Mr. Procter, 

Toiled he hard with mind and pen. 
Seeking truths of distant planets. 

And in giving them to men. 
Thus it was he lived for others, 

Lived to sow the seeds of right 
That his works may shine in darkness, 

Like thq stars he studied bright. 



ALLBN DORMANS POEMS. 841 

ROMANCE. 
Romance, how the maidens love it, 

Pomp and splendor, fierce and wild, 
Distant on some plain of glory, 

Gaily spreading on the style. 
But the greatest of all romance 

Is the stormy tidings sent. 
How the daring lovers work it 

When they wed by accident. 

RECOGNITION. 

Recognition, recognition, 

True merit's heart should win, 
And safe surmount the mighty steeps, 

And many snares of sin. 
For it the heart will labor on 

To recognize and own, 
And fortune knocks at every door 

For those that are at home. 



ROSCOE CONKLIN. 

The great men of this nation, 

The worthy and the true, 
Should reap from others' credit. 

For good things that they do. 
But yet their claims are questioned, 

They have to toil and tight, 
And labor for the honors 

They get in doing right. 

And true the foe may trust them. 

And often give them praise 
For great and useful labors 

They do in many ways. 
Oh, could the world be prompted 

To one great center right. 
And honor men of merit 

Whose names are stars of light. 



348 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

RELIEF. 

Life with all its toil and care, 

With its pain and grief, 
Often has the joy to feel 

Blessings of relief. 
Thus it is a pleasant hope, 

Hope from every pain. 
In a world beyond this world, 

There relief shall reign. 

RELIGION. 
The worth of true religion 

Hath blessings for the soul, 
And wisely it is better 

Than merits of pure gold. 
Religion, true religion, 

Consists in doing good. 
And wisely helping others, 

As God hath said we should. 

ROBERT BOYLE. 
The honored names of useful men, 

Indeed, may truly show, 
How other hearts may likewise live, 

And overcome life's foe. 
The common foe we all must fight, 

Adversities and pain, 
And he who lives this toilsome life 

Must truly share the same. 

Oh, yes, its true with most great men, 

They've had to toil and try, 
And labor for the ranks they reach, 

[Jp in the world so high. 
And thus it is that other hearts 

Should labor like the great. 
And build their monuments in life, 

Before it is too late. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 349 

REDEMPTION. 

Oh yes, this life is real, 

Consigned to loss and gain, 
While fortune brings us pleasure 

Some loss may bring us pain. 
But yet there is a pleasure, 

Redemption has within, 
The hope of sweet redeeming 

The heart from death and sin. 



RESTLESS DESIRES. 
Impatient are restless desires 

That wait for good to come, 
A longing, and sighing, and trusting, 

For prize or victory won. 
Yet deepest and quickest of feelings 

Are fears that love may turn, 
Oh, horror, O mercy, O mercy. 

The thoughts intensely burn. 

RICHARD HOOKER. 
How true it is with most great men, 

That they have had to try 
To reach tlie stations they have reached, 

Up in the world so high. 
Oh, yes, it is their faithful works. 

Their work of mind and pen 
That bids their useful deeds to live 

"Within the hearts of men. 

Their names stand out as monuments 

Of what their hearts have done, 
And life well knows the many foes 

They've had to overcome. 
So let us live like honored men, 

And labor like ttie true. 
And then the world will credit give 

For what we faithful do. 



350 ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 

KESOLUTION. 
Resolution, resolution, 

Heart determined to be true, 
Ever toiling on and upward, 

For some prize it may pursue. 
Resolution may be worthy, 

May be right or may be wrong, 
So the highest resolution 

Is to live when earth is gone. 

RICHARD BAXTER. 

The lives of great and useful men, 

That shine so bright and new, 
Uphold the work that they have done 

So faithful and so true. 
Yes, once they lived as now we live, 

And knew life's sad and sweet. 
And felt the chills of winter time. 

And warmth of summer's heat. 

But they were mindful while they lived 

Of chances passing by, 
And sought to well improve their lives 

In ways that leadeth high. 
And thus it is that they have reached 

The stations of the great. 
And left the works that lift their names 

Above the nights of fate. 

REPAIRING. 
In every move on march of life. 

The heart is constant wearing. 
And if the heart would proper live 

Must constant be repairing. 
And thus it is in all we do. 

In purpose or applying, 
The law that has us constant live 

Would likewise have us dying. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 351 

ROBEKT SOUTHWELL. 

Most all great men of merit 

In this uncertain life, 
Have had great odds to battle 

Of envy and of strife. 
Great foes of jealous feelings 

Have fought with all their might, 
And hindered much the progress 

Of enterprise and right. 

And thus with Robert Southwell, 

A man of merit true, 
Was sadly persecuted 

And executed too. 
Oh, many hearts of merit 

With hopes of future bright, 
Have faced the doom of perish 

For simply doing right. 

ROBERT FULTON. 
Robert Fulton, Robert Fulton, 

Was to earth a favored light, 
Who improved the first steam-engine 

With his knowledge and foresight. 
He was not the first inventor, 

And he never claimed to be. 
But he gave the world much knowledge 

That was in obscurity. 

Yes, he was a man of merit. 

And he served his purpose true. 
For he blest the world with favors 

As no other heart would do. 
Tlius it is with other persons. 

All have work that should be done. 
And each heart is for a purpose 

In this life and life to come. 



S5S ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

ROY J. BURGE. 

IN MEMORIAM. 

TLe cherished hopes of days gone by 

May often fade from mind, 
Unless revived by some event 

That life has left behind. 
Some cherished pleasure of the past, 

Some thought of hope or truth, 
May oft revive some childish sport 

The heart has known in youth. 

Some ]>laymate or some special friend 

Of early days gone by. 
That's served a part in memory 

May bring the past so nigh. 
But yet there is a cherished hope, 

With those we used to play, 
'Tis when we meet beyond this life, 

Friends will not pass away. 

ROBERT LEE. 
Robert Lee, ye.s, Robert Lee, 

A soldier true and tried, 
A warrior and a chieftain 

Upon the southern side. 
He fought with might and valor. 

For country, God and home. 
And gained triumphant battles 

O'er greater odds than own. 

The cause was lost, yet right survived, 

'Twas worthy to befriend. 
As he who figlits a manly foe 

May trust him in the end. 
Peace to his soul, O worthy one, 

God loves the good and best, 
And takes tiiem home to be with Him 

That Heaven may be blest. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 353 

RICH MEN. 
Rich men we have among us, 

Have to toil as others do, 
If they reap the world's approval. 

And be counted good and true. 
Many eyes on them are watching, 

For some favor or some trade, 
And too much is oft expected. 

Things the weak and poor evade. 

REALITY. 

Reality in consciousness. 

In wliat we say and do. 
Will make its print upon the soul, 

Life's every action true. 
To say the least its real life 

That knows the real right, 
And knows the art of secret shams 

That may deceive the sight. 

SCIENCE. 
Let science rise and teach the world. 

What truths its treasures may, 
Don't check its march because it wont 

Develop out your way. 
Arouse its deep and hidden truths, 

And teach them unto men. 
It will n(»t hurt the truth and right 

For science is their friend. 

Let science rise and bless the .world, •- 

From slumbers of the deep, 
And let its merit thus be known, 

Where science is asleep. 
The science of the earth and air. 

The treasures yet untold, 
And problems of all life and death. 

And science of the soul. 



854 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SING TO ME, LOYE. 
Oh, sing to me, love, undying, 

Teach me its beauties to-night, 
Tell me of love in its fullness. 

Where all is beauty and bright. 
Yes, sing of love in its glory, 

Where all is happy and free, 
Tell me of love in its grandeur, 

While I may tarry with thee. 

Oh, sing me a song of gladness. 

Of hope in its golden light, 
This heart is weary with sadness, 

And it needs true love to-night. 
Teach me a lesson of wisdom. 

Of happiness and of praise. 
Of the angels in their beauty, 

Who know love's happiest ways. 

SWEET HEAYEN. 
Sweet Heaven, far-off Heaven, 

All glory, grand and bright, 
The home of happy angels, 

That home of pure delight. 
The home of God eternal. 

Where angels all are kind. 
They sweetly call it Heaven, 

For Heaven is divine. 

Sweet Heaven, yes, bright Heaven, 

Where all around is new. 
And is the consummation 

Of all the good we do. 
For Thee my soul is yearning, 

Oh, waft me up to Thee, 
And let me dwell in Heaven 

Through all eternity. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 365 

SHADES OF SORROW. 
When clouds appear above us, 

And fill the azure sky, 
May hide the sun of gladness, 

That would if could be nigh. 
And they may hide the pleasures, 

And many thoughts of praise, 
That often con)e so truly. 

In bright and sunny days. 

And thus the shades of sorrow, 

That brood above the soul, 
May chill the weary bosom 

And let within the cold ; 
And leave the heart deserted, 

And wretched in its pain, 
And flood the lieart with terror, 

And thoughts that seemeth vain. 

And those whose hearts we cherish, 

So friendly and so true. 
Their kind i-eciprocations 

Depend on how we do. 
We seek them as companions, 

To share with us our own. 
And think of them with pleasure. 

When often all alone. 

But when they do desert us, 

And turn their hearts away. 
May bring the shades of sorrow, 

Or eve of sorrow's day. 
'Tis friendship that may kindle 

Sweet pleasures for the soul. 
And furnish life the blessings. 

Beyond the price of gold. 



356 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SOUGHT AND CHEKISHED. 

Sought and cherished, sought and cherished 

Is thy heart with fondness dear, 
Hoping, trusting for the coming. 

Of the time that seems so near. 
Oh, this heart is lone without tliee, •, 

Could it worship thee to-night, 
And adore thee in thy presence. 

And thy pretty charms so bright. 

Love has sought thee, true with kindness, 

Cherished thouglits have been its own, 
Hopes have 'wakened in the bosom 

When in trouble and alone. 
Love will claim thee, and with pleasure. 

In the years that are to come. 
Love will claim thee, true and faithful. 

Love thou true and pretty one. 

SAD AND LONELY. 

This heart is sad and lonely, 

And seeking thee to-night, 
Love's welcome, yes thiice welcome, 

With all her beauties bright. 
Oh, truly will she love me[^ 

And keep my wishes nigh? 
Love's wishes that are sacred 

Of meeting by and by. 

I'm lonely, sad and lonely, 

I need her promise dear, 
That she will love me ever 

With hope's delightful cheer. 
Yes, tell me that she loves me. 

And seal it with a sigh. 
With love's delightful promise. 

While she is fondly nigh. 



ALLEN DORM AN' S POEMS. 357 

SPRING IS NIGH. 

When spring is nigh hopes may be bright, 

When praise is everywhere, 
And gladness cheers the weary heart, 

And frees the mind from care, 
The heart may feel that spring is nigh 

When little birds will sing, 
And all the changes that appear 

Are cheering signs of spring. 

Yes, when the trees begin to spread 

Their little branches high, 
And when the wintry snow is gone 

Is proof that spring is nigh. 
And when the grass begins to grow, 

And life in everything, 
And when the robin has returned. 

We feel that it is spring. 

So gentle friends, we should be true. 

And from this lesson learn 
That when the weary heart would stray. 

Like spring it should return. 
Oh, yes, return from angry thoughts, 

And let the heart live free, 
As may, indeed, the spring of life. 

Be short with you and me. 

So let us live and labor on, 

While little songsters sing. 
That life may learn and use with care, 

The pleasant thoughts of spring. 
Eternal watching is the price ^ 

Of true, sweet liberty. 
And hearts must labor if they live 
In spring's eternity. 



m ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

STKAYING HEARTS. 
There is some heart that's tempted, 

Seeking to go astray, 
Seeking to tnrn from duty. 

And from the truth away. 
Straying hearts that would do right 

May follow vice and shame. 
And tangle with the lurking sins 

Around their once good name. 

Straying hearts are all around us, 

They pass us every day, 
And gently we should ask them 

To live a nobler way. 
Go give them help and courage, 

And teach them how to live. 
For some poor heart is needing 

The help that we can give. 

SHE CAME TO ME. 
The thought is new, the thought is sweet, 

And in the heart to stay. 
Of times I've met with maiden fair 

When she was young and gay. 
Yes, in the past of long ago, 

When childish hearts were free, 
When maiden fair was kind and true 

Was when she came to me. 

The many times her heart was true 

And when we often met. 
And many good times of the past. 

I never can forget. 
Of aU the good times we have known. 

That's made this heart so free. 
There's none that's like those sacred times, 

The times she came to me. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 350 

SEEKING PRAISES. 
Seeking praises, seeking pleasures, 

Knowing life is fated. 
Mingled in some changing sorrow, 

Thoughts that we are hated. 
Tho' we feel life has a purpose, 

And is hopeful ever, 
Looking proudly for the coming 

Of some hope that's never 

Every hope may have a sorrow, 

Every sigh a pleasure, 
Every day may have its darkness, 

Every life its treasure. 
Seeking praises may be proper, 

Ever working duly, 
Ever building destinations 

For a future truly. 

SIDE-TRACKED. 

The many hearts that try to live, 

And often try in vain. 
And get side-tracked along the way, 

May realize the same. 
They get discouraged on the march, 

And often fail to try, 
And lose life's special victory 

When victory is nigh. 

And when in life they see their plight, 

And when it is too late. 
May see and know and realize 

What brought about their fate. 
So let us try and dare to live 

And overcome life's falls. 
As long as there's a world of light 

That shines alike for all. 



360 ALLEN OORMAN'b POEMS. 

SINFUL THOUGHTS. 

Sinful thoughts make sinful deeds, 

And sinful deeds make strife, 
And thoughts and deeds mold characters 

That go to make up life. 
But the Lord can move the stain, 

And will heal the sore, 
If the heart will rue such thoughts 

And will sin no more. 



SELF^THINKEIIS. 
Self-thinkers are the persons 

Who dare to do their thinking, 
And seem to know their business 

In floating or in sinking. 
In every occupation, 

In business of a tinker, 
Its well enough in purpose 

To be a good self-thinker. 

SELF-MADE MEN. 
The self-made men and worthy, 

The useful and the true, 
Their deeds are good examples 

That others may pursue. 
Their manly hearts are tested, 

As victors in the fight, 
And by them having battles 

Have made their labors bright. 

Some hearts have started lowly 

And reached the stations high 
And shown by manly efibrts, 

'Tis sweet to live and try. 
Yes, Uve for God and country 

And build life's structures bright. 
Unaided and unfavored 

In labors for the right. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 361 

SEEKING THE SUNLIGHT. 

Seeking the sunlight, seeking the day, 
Seeking the sunbeams so cheerfully. 
Seeking the morninggladdened and bright, 
Seeking the beauties of hope's delight. 
Seeking the promise, every good thing, 
Thoughts of the future, life's duties bring, 
Seeking the blessings happiness give, 
Seeking the sunlight here while we live. 

SUMMERS. 
Summers come and summers leave, 

Much like shadows that deceive. 
Summers bring many blessings, 

Flowers, fruits, nature's dressings. 
Summers may of a life-time 

Leave no record of their clime. 
Yet their beauties fondly stay. 

Summers of sweet memory. 

SOME SAD HEART. 
There's some sad heart that's nigh to us 

In every stage of life, 
And some weak heart who needs our help 

To overcome their strife. 
There's some one worn with toil and care, 

There's some heart weak and sad. 
There's some heart wretched with despair 

And would if could be glad. 

Let life be favored and complete, 

To think or look around, 
May see some other heart despised 

Neglected or cast down. 
So life has duty to perform, 

In healing aching pain. 
And sowing kindness and good deeds 

For those who need the same. 



362 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SILKEN SNARES. 
The silken snares that pierce the heart 

Are silken sins that wound, 
And lay and lurk to victimize 

Some poor heart easy found. 
Oh, shrewd indeed the heart must be 

And watchful every day, 
To safe elude the silken snares 

That lie hid on life's way. 

SIR THOMAS MOORE. 

Sir Thomas Moore, Sir Thomas Moore, 

A brilliant shining light, 
His name will stand as it has stood. 

And shine through darkest night. 
The wear of time may wear away. 

The lustre toil may give. 
But yet the name of Thomas Moore 

Will shine with names that live. 



SATAN. 

Col. Satan's reputation 

Is not of the best. 
Given him by his opponents, 

By the good and blest. 
He wrote no book but he hustled, 

And was for himself. 
And by numbers of his converts 

Is not being left. 

He ambitious planned a conquest, 

But was badly hurled. 
Family jealous for the spirits 

Of this human world. 
He rebelled against Jehovah 

When he got his start, 
A.nd has built a mighty kingdom 

In the human heart. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 363 

SYSTEM. 
In system there is order, 

Whatever be the plan, 
Should wisely be adopted 

By every business man. 
The system of all systems 

On which the world is run, 
Is truly well adapted 

To every star and sun. 

SEASONS. 
Seasons come and seasons leave us, 

Seasons come with every year, 
And the changes that they bring us 

Often bring us blessings dear. 
But the seasons of a life-time 

As they come and its they flee, 
Go to teach that time is bringing 

Season of eternity. 

SWEET MEMORY. 
How sweet the recollections 

Of happy days gone by, 
And thoughts we fondly cherish 

Of times that seem so nigh. 
It is indeed a favor, 

A blessing while we live, 
That we may reap the pleasures 

That memory may give. 

The past would be deluded 

In dark abyss of night. 
If "tvvas not decked with beauties 

To glow and make it bright. 
And as we use the present. 

The past will truly be. 
The future and forever. 

For all eternity. 



364 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SCHOOL. 

'Tis scliool that trains and teaches 

The little and the great, 
A mill that grinds the problems 

Of fortune or of fate. 
And now the school of learning, 

In research deep and high, 
In all the arts and science. 

May be for those whc try. 

SOLITARY. 

Some star that shines above us 

All solitary lone. 
And in its stationed glory, 

May shed much light unknown. 
And as a star that's lonely. 

The heart may likewise be, 
To live and bloom secluded 

Where no wcu-ld's eye may see. 

STATIONS IN LIFE. 

In looking backward at the past, 

At many hills of strife. 
May see as stations on the way, 

What. happens in one's life. 
The mindful blessings or reverse. 

The bright and hopeful days, 
Are stations that have stayed the march 

With sweet or sad delays. 

The hope of times to come again. 

Life's pleasure and its grief, 
The gloomy moments of despair. 

And comings of relief. 
Whatever happens good or bad. 

Some ti'ifle or delay, 
That n)akes its note in memory, 

Are stations on life's way.. 



-ALLEN DOEMAN'S POEMS. 365 

STORMS. 

Storing that fill the sky above 

Often wakes a thought of fear, 
Yet the God of storm is love, 

And is nigh when storms appear. 
Storms and tempests came of old, 

And the same law guides their waj, 
But how bring them in control 

There's no scholar that can say. 

STYLE. 
The style and fashion and culture, 

That rule the people to-day. 
Are varied and transient as seasons 

That come and passeth away. 
Yet style and manner of doing, 

The beautiful deeds that live, 
May honor the arts of merit 

That cultured style may give. 

SAD MEMORY. 
How sad and dark and gloomy 

Are moments of despair. 
When life reviews the troubles 

Of sin and shame and care. 
The sin of days neglected. 

That makes the conscience burn, 
And sins of blessings wasted 

That never can return. 

The sins of desolation, 

Of sorrow and of grief, 
Where all around is ruin, 

And time brings no relief. 
When memory is saddened, 

And has no promise left. 
And all bright hopes are blasted, 

May wreck life unto death. 



366 ALtEN DORMAN'S ?6EMS. 

SHE IS WAITING. 

Sliu is waiting, she is waiting, 

And she will wait to-daj, 
Her heart is weak it cannot wait, 

She has not long to stay. 
Her life is brief, her heart is moved, 

Her time is fleeting fast, 
While she's waiting, lonely waiting, 

Your claims may soon be past. 

She is waiting, truly waiting. 

And she is waiting nigh. 
She is ti-u.sting for thy choosing, 

An effort only try. 
Love is something, few may solve it. 

And when it runs aright 
It may bring the sweetest blessings 

That ever come in life. 



SHE CHARMS ME WHEN I'M SAD. 
Oh, I love my gentle maiden, 

She is half this world to me. 
And I dearly love her tiuily, 

When her gentle heart is free. 
God has blest my litlle maiden 

With the charms I cherish glad, 
She's my lady, she's my honey. 

For she charms me when I'm sad. 

Love, true love should sweetly clierish, 

Pleasures as it dreams them o'er. 
For in life it soon may perish, 

Droop in death and live no more. 
So I'll hold her love as sacred, 

Her true love that cheers me glad, 
And I'll love her true and dearly 

For she charms me when I'm sad. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 36T 

SHE WAS FAIR 
She was fair, and she was lovely, 

She was near and dear to me, 
She was kind and she was friendly, 

And as pretty as could be ; 
She was blooming, she was charming, 

She was lovely in my sight. 
And her eyes were gems of beauty 

As they sparkled in the light. 

Maiden fair was flush with graces, 

She was fair and she was gay, 
Blooming like the lovely roses. 

Like thera soon to pass away. 
Oh, I loved her, dearly loved her, 

And her beauties bright and free. 
She was fair and she was lovely, 

And her heart was dear to me. 



SHE LOVED HIM. 
I knew a fair young maiden. 

Her heart was light and gay, 
She loved her faithful lover. 

She loved him all the day. 
They loved each other fondly. 

With pleasures sweet and new. 
She loved him for his merits. 

He loved her kind and true. 

She loved him like a lover 

With all her heart and mind, 
His faults were turned to virtues, 

Her heart was true and kind. 
They loved each other dearly. 

When came the real test. 
She loved him as her choice. 

He loved her truly best. 



368 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SHE'S A HONEY. 

She's a honey, she's a honey, 

Yes, my lady sweet, 
She is pretty, slie is winning, 

Gentle, kind and neat. * 
Yes, I love her lovely beauties 

And her charming ways. 
She is ever like the morning, 

Flush with hope and praise. 

She's my lover, she's my lassie, 

She's my honey too, 
She is just my little lady, 

Ever kind and true. 
Sweet and gentle in her nature. 

Ever, ever free, 
Blooming in her pride and glory, 

Blooming all for me. 



SURBRISED. 

The family folks were in the house. 

All quiet and content. 
While children played about the room, 

As if on pleasure bent. 
They heard a racket in a room, 

Or somewhere in the house, 
But thought it was the old tom-cat 

Was hunting for a mouse. 

The mother told some one to go 

And take the light along. 
And stop the racket in the house. 

And rectify the wrong. 
They all got up and quickly went. 

The mother at the head. 
And when they entered in the room 

'Twas Satan on the bed, 



i 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. CG9 

SATAN'S BENCH. 
Old Satan is the devil, sir, 

And is the boss of men, 
He tries to turn good people, sir, 

And tote them to his den. 
Once in his visit to the earth, 

And with a rusty wrench. 
He took up his serpent tail 

And screvi'ed it to a bench. 

He screwed it tight as you may think, 

Then looked it careful o'er. 
And had the demons down in hell 

To open up the door. 
Now Satan's mission was for men, 

He saw them near and far. 
And took up his clumsy bench 

And smeared it o'er with tar. 

Old Satan knew the wits of men 

And how to take them in, 
A scheme of all great hidden schenics, 

This was a scheme of sin. 
He knew that men would gather round 

To see his bench of tar. 
And when he sat them on his bench 

They certain would be there. 

Old Satan knew just how to act, 

He was a tricky whelp, 
And when he found his tail was fast, 

Began to call for help. 
Poor foolish men, yes, smartish men, 

Came running there to see, 
And with a view to realize 

That such a thing could be. 



B70 ALLEN DORMAN'g POEMS. 

There gathered ronnd great crowds of 
men, 

And some had run their best, 
As Satan spoke tliey nearly all 

Sat on his bench to rest. 
It all was done and sharply too, 

If by some magic spell, 
And all seemed good to shortly take 

A jolly ride to hell. 

At first they thought they had him fast, 

Old Satan's bench was full, 
They had a load they surely thought 

The devil couldn't pull. 
They all at once began to laugh 

When some one hollowed Oh! 
And sadly saw to their sui-prise, 

The bench began to go. 

It was a load, a mighty load. 

And started with a rip, 
And Satan promised those he left, 

He'd make another trip. 
They left the earth, lit out for hell, 

Some sought relief in vain, 
With seeming grace they entered space, 

Went Satan with his ti-ain. 

It was exciting times just then, 

And was no time to pray, 
For Satan in his hurry went 

Swift to the judgment day. 
It was no time for argument, 

For Satan was their boss, 
He run the thing to suit liimself, 

As wild and lucky boss. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 3T1 

They passed the moon, the sun, the stars, 

Swift as an arrow shot. 
And as they reached in sight of hell, 

They felt it getting hot. 
Still on they went at lightning speed 

Through odors bad to smell, 
And as old Satan tucked his tail, 

They saw the gates of hell. 

They sadly saw no hope for them, 

The gates were all ajar, 
And Satan knew just where to take 

His mighty bench of tar. 
They soon approached the gates of hell, 

Went in at lightning speed, 
And in the burning flames around 

Went doctors with their creed. 

False prophets and false teachers too. 

False tribes in every cell, 
Were gathered there and roasthjg in 

The penal fires of hell. 
Yes, men were there of high estate, 

And many great and small, 
And men of giant intellects, 

But Satan bossed them all. 

Yes, kings were there, and mighty men. 

Who once the world possessed. 
But they were duped by Satan's tricks, 

And chose his bench to rest. 
So now, young folks, be good to-day. 

And don't you wander far, 
For when you handle sin and shame 

You handle Satan's tar. 



878 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

SOUGHT IN VAIN. 

She sought him in love's season, 

With pui-pose kind and true, 
And showed with proof she loved him, 

As only love could do. 
She served her part and duty, 

And in a worthy way. 
But his heart was wanting. 

And with her did not stay. 

And thus we all are wanting 

In many good things nigh, 
We often see around us, 

Could claim them if we try. 
The God of earth and Heaven 

Is ever watching you, 
And grieves when hearts are straying, 

As soint'times lovers do. 



SORROW^S. 
Sorrows often press the bosom 

As they come and go, 
Life is never wirJKMit sorrow 

In this woi'ld of woe. 
Sorrows como like shadows o'er us. 

With tlieir gloom and grief, 
Brooding oil" tlie gentle sunlight 

That wouM bring relief. 

Sorrows come and chill the bosom 

When the heart is sad, 
Seeking for the consolation 

It would cherish glad. 
Yet life's sorrow has a purpose 

When we mourn and sigh, 
For they purify the bosom, 

As the storms the sky. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 373 

SELFISHNESS. 
Thou selfish heart, jou crave within 

The rights you merit not, 
And try to gather for yourself 

Some claims beyond your lot. 
Thou narrow soul, you sow and reap 

Within your bosom small, 
And in your selfish greed for gain, 

You sometimes lose it all. 



SYMPATHY. 
Down in the heart of justice 

Tli-ere dwells sweet synijnithy, 
That melts the iron conscience 

Of inhumanity. 
There, brothers know their brothers, 

As pilgrims on the plains, 
In meeting and in parting 

They hope to meet again. 

SHORES OF TIME. 

The shores of time will stand secure 

As long as time shall last. 
Have stood for ages and will stand 

The same as in the past. 
The shores of time will firmly stay 

Perpetual and secure, 
Will stand as they have ever stood 

Immortal, safe and sure. 

Yes, they will stand, forever stand, 

Thro' time and endless day, 
And waves that beat upon their banks, 

Will wear them not away. 
The shores of time that never fail 

Are not of earthly kind. 
And they will stand eternally. 

For they arc chores of time. 



374 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

SPKING. 

When the winter's ice is melted, 

And the snow is past and gone, 
Comes the spring with gentle sunlight, 

And the merry times of song. 
When the flowers come so gladly, 

And the robin freely sings. 
Comes to ns the pleasant feelings 

Of the glad approach of spring. 

When the forest trees are budding, 

And the meadow's carpet green, 
Greets the bright and pleasant sunshine, 

Living beauties may be seen. 
Beauties of a future promise, 

Sporting birds with gentle song. 
And the murmur of the brooklet, 

Hurries life so smoothly on. 

When the crimson rose is blooming 

O'er its green and mossy bed, 
'Wakens thoughts of pleasant feelings 

With its tints of golden red. 
Yes, it blushes with the breezes, 

And its tints of sable hue 
Greet the morning and the sunlight. 

As it dazzles fresh with dew. 

Oh, it fills the heart with gladness. 

And it tills the soul with love. 
Yet sweet spring is but a shadow 

Of that happy spring above. 
Yes, it tells us of the beauties 

Of another spring to come, 
Where the soul shall live forever 

When this earthly world is done. 









11' 



/M) y. 



'<fA 






ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 375 

But that far-off spring is bright, 

And its scenes of fadeless bowers, 
Are more pure and more sacred 

Than we liave in this of ours. 
There the songs are free from sadness, 

And their hearts are free from pain. 
And the loved ones live forever 

On that bright, celestial plain. 

Yet we have the spring and sunshine, 

As we journey here below, 
Paving sweet the path to heaven 

And the way that we should go. 
Soon the spring of life will leave us. 

And the birds may cease their song, 
When the heart is old and feeble 

And the days of youth are gone. 

STONEWALL JACKSON. 
Of all great men, the bright, the best, 

Whoever fought for right, 
Unrivaled and unconquered 

In every valiant fight. 
Yes, like a stone-wall solid, 

He stood with heart and main, 
In battle after battle 

He truly fought to gain. 

When odds were 'ray'd against him 

He only knew success. 
For God and country watched him. 

And through him they were blest. 
A warrior tried and tested 

Through many a bloody fight, 
Whose final gain was Heaven 

Upon the plains of light. 



^76 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SINS. 
Sins they scar the inner soul 

With the stains that stay, 
Live this life, however old. 

May not wear away. 
But the Lord is ever true 

With the hearts of men, 
And will cleanse the sins they do, 

As a faithful friend. 



SLIGHTED LOVE. 

Yes, slighted love, yes, slighted love, 

By one he loved of yore. 
Has slighted him forever now, 

And they can love no more. 
Yes, she is sold and they must part 

From love's delightful cheer, 
Yet life with each may oft review 

Some courting thoughts that were. 

How sad, how cold the heart may be 

When it is turned away. 
And with the thought that it is free 

From one that would not stay. 
Yet such is life when such is true, 

And true with some its been. 
To feel such thoughts when life may lose 

The heart it cannot win. 

The girl he loved is sadly gone, 

And taken from him now. 
And broken forever all their claims, 

Their plighted hopes and vow. 
We seldom wed the first we love. 

Indeed we seldom win, 
The hearts we loved in early youth. 

Yet sometimes might have been. 



ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 377 

SHAME. 
Yes, shame is something awful, 

And sheepish in the heart, 
And doing wrong and gnilty 

Thus causes it to start. 
But what works honest conscience, 

And stirs up shame within 
Is making secrets public, 

And turning shame to sin. 

SILENT WORTH. 

True silent worth and noted worth 

Should have a corairion sphere, 
And measured by a standard grade 

That liolds each likewise dearj 
But yet there is a modest claim 

About true silent worth, 
That gives a lustre to its charm, 

As sacred gem of earth. 

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 
To live long in this real world, 

Means much of grief and pain. 
Means disappointment, toil and care, 

As well as prosperous gain j 
But he who tries with ceaseless nerve, 

And manly thoughts within, 
Unaided in his useful work. 

May overcome and win. 

Sir Isaac Newton started out, 

And wended his own way. 
High up the ranks of brilliant fame. 

Up in the world to stay. 
The worthy men, the useful men. 

The self-made and the true. 
Who help the world and bless the world. 

Are known by what they do. 



378 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SAMUEL J. TILDEN. 
A man of wealth and power, 

A mighty man indeed, 
Was Mr. Samuel Tilden, 

To have in time of need. 
He helped the politician 

In Tilden's great campaign, 
And raised a mighty racket 

For presidential fame. 

SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 

There is a light in every life, 

Of every noted man, 
Who builds a credit for his name 

Upon the sea or land. 
A credit as a light to shine. 

Like morning's rising sun, 
To brighten up a dismal world 

With good things they have done. 

SENATOR GEO. G. VEST. 

The brightest men and worthy. 

The useful and the true, 
Who rank as honored statesman, 

Are known by what they do. 
Missouri's highest chieftain, 

In deep aflfairs of state. 
He sways his nation's senate 

With talents of the great. 

A giant and a power, 

With record tested bright, 
And recognised as able 

To advocate the right. 
Tho' other states may rally 

Their brightest men and best, 
Compare them in their glory. 

With Mr. Geo. G. Vest. 




SAMUEL J. TILDEN.- Page 378. 



ALLEN DORMANS POKMS. 379 

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 
The hearts who try to do the right, 

And thus improve their time, 
May help and truly bless the world 

By works they leave behind. 
And thus it was with Richard Steele, 

The world was prond to give 
A good word for his useful life, 

And bid his name to live. 



STATIONED LIGHTS. 
The stars are stationed lights above, 

They seem as stations bright, 
That serve some purpose out in space. 

By shedding off their light. 
And thus it is with light of hope. 

The light of peace and love, 
They serve as bright and stationed lights 

To guide the heart above. 

SAMUEL JOHNSON. 
Samuel Johnson, Samuel Johnson, 

A mighty man of worth. 
Who spent his time in writing books, 

Of such as bless the earth; 
A worthy man, a useful man, 

In contest best of all, 
Who built a structure in his life, 

That was not built to fall. 

He left behind him in the world 

A book to bear his name. 
And show to others how he reached 

The lofty heights of fame. 
He manly fought adversity. 

As other hearts should do. 
And justly won the name he had 

Of being great and true. 



) ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SPOOKS. 
Spooks are spirits of the dead, 

Clothed in phantom lights, 
Figures, faces, features, forms, 

Seen on gloomy nights. 
There are spectres unexplained 

In this world below, 
Yet in life that is to come 

We shall better know. 



SLAVERY. 
I can remember when darkies were slaves, 

Back in the summers of youtli, 
Back in the seasons of slavery days. 

Memory still holds this truth. 
I can remember when darkies brought cash 

As property put and sold. 
When darkies were traded or auctioned off. 

Darkies brought silver and gold. 

SEEKERS. 
Oh, ye seekers, office seekers. 

Oh, how tame you are, 
When you wish to be elected 

To some office bar. 
Then it is you seek the favors, 

And the votes as seed. 
To be planted in elections 

For your motive's need. 

Oh, ye seekers, O ye seekers. 

Seekers after good. 
Need of votes hath made you gentle. 

As it sometimes should. 
Seekers, seekers, all around. 

Fixing for the test. 
Gentle, earnest, faithful seekers 

After righteousness. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 381 

SAMUEL BUTLER 
Like a star far out in darkness, 

Distant, far away, 
Is the name of Samuel Butler, 

In a sphere of day. 
Day that comes from useful labors, 

Deeds of good and right, 
Teaching others wise and better. 

In a sphere of light. 

STATIONS IN TIME. 
In looking back thro' ancient years 

At workings of mankind. 
Many see the changes of the world, 

As monuments of time. 
The spoils of war and sages rise. 

The fall of thrones and kings 
Are stations that have stood thro' time, 

Among the wreck of things. 

SLAYER OF MEN. 
I met a slayer of men one time. 

He was of unsound mind, 
I did not know that he was death, 

For he was good and kind. 
He asked poor men to go with him. 

Some went and unconcerned, 
They went with him and unto death. 

And never more returned. 

He tried to have me go with him, 

My duty would not let. 
His motive was to murder me. 

His form still haunts mo yet. 
How brittle are the threads of life. 

How narrow 'twas with me. 
How grateful that my life was spared, 

And I to-day am free. 



382 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

STARS. 

The little stars that shine above 

Are mighty suns in space, 
Revolving ever on and on, 

Around some center place. 
Around some center, if divine, 

Will balance all the rest. 
Where gather from the fields of worlds 

The spirits of the blest. 

SPECULATIONS. 
Speculations, speculations, 

Sometimes pleasing, sometimes bad. 
Sometimes losing, sometimes profit, 

Sometimes pleasing, sometimes sad. 
Constant gaining is a business. 

Sudden losing is a crasli, 
Speculations that bring fortunes. 

Bring the gold and silver cash. 

SEEKING THE TRUTH. 
Seeking the truth, the gems of truth, 

Seeking the claims of right. 
Seeking the paths of peace and love 

Will make the journey bright. 
The heart will find in deals with men 

Tliat truth is always best. 
And living the truth in times of youth 

May lead to endless rest. 

Seeking the truth, the sacred truth. 

And from life's early morn. 
And all thro' life its care and strife, 

Let truth be sung in song. 
Seeking the truth while life may last, 

Leave good things said and done. 
That life may show what life shall be 

In future life to come. 



feHE LOYED ANOTHER. 
Cap. Jones and wife they quarreled much, 

And soriietimes they would fight, 
The plan adopted to decide 

"Which one was in the right. 
Yes, she would fuss, and he would Cui-^e, 

To rectify some wrong, 
Till floated gossip to the pop, 

They could not get along. 

STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS 

The great men of the country 

Have hearts like other men, 
And likewise are surrounded 

By many foe and friend. 
And thus with Mr. Douglas, 

He had to toil and try 
To overcome life's battles, 

And wend his way up high. 

SERYANT GIRLS. 

Much praise is due to servant girls 

Who do their duty right, 
And try to build up pleasant homes 

Where sometimes is dark night. 
Tis true they sometimes have to toil. 

But that may not be wrong, 
As time will curse the idle heart 

That has no task or song. 

Yes, servant girls have honest rights 

Wherever they may live, 
And may have trials to forbear, 

And many to forgive. 
But then to live in this dark world 

Means much of grief and wrong, 
So let us labor to befriend 

And help each other on. 



^ ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

SAMUEL ADAMS. 
The men who rank as statesmen, 

And hibor for the right, 
May occupy positions 

To make their labors bright. 
And thus with Mr. Adams, 

In every public deed, 
He tried to serve his country 

In serious time of need. 



Sm MATHEW HALE. 

The human heart of action 

Is but a light to shine, 
That dazzles for a season. 

And fades away in time. 
And he who builds up others 

Shall others build up him, 
The art great men employ 

To overcome and win. 



SHADOWS. 

The unsubstantial shadows 

That move and pass away 
Are emblems of the moments 

That pass us night and day. 
The shadows in the sunlight 

Are shades that substance cast. 
And move as do the substance, 

With things that seem to pass. 

The shadows of the seasons, 

They leave no trace behind. 
Or vestige of existence 

Of things that were in time. 
And as the pass of shadows 

That float so smoothly free, 
Will move this life untimely 

Into eternity. 



ALLtlN DORMANS POEMS. 386 

SONGS OF OTHER BIRDS. 
'Tis sweet to hear the summer songs 

From little birds that sing, 
And feel sweet music in the heart 

Their songs so often bring. 
'Tis sweet to hear their gentle notes 

S9 fondly and so glad, 
But yet their songs may bring about 

Some feelings that are sad. 

'Tis sweet to hear the little birda 

Carol their gentle song, 
Their music cheers the weary heart 

And lures it sweetly on. 
It 'wakens in the troubled heart 

New thoughts it loves so "well, 
And mingles them with other thoughts 

It feels but cannot tell. 

The summer songs that lure us now 

And hurries time so fast, 
Will be renewed in future years 

The same as in the past. 
Yes, other birds and other hearts 

Will gladly cheer us then. 
And otlier songs and other hopes 

We'll have with other friends. 

And other flowers then shall bloom, 

And other friends will praise, 
And other thoughts and other sighs 

We'll have in other days. 
So let us try in earnest now, 

And thus prepare a place, 
And build our hopes eternally 

Where time will not efface. 



386 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SWEET WOMEN. 
Oh, who could keep from loving 

The lovely women sweet, 
The true ones and the fair ones 

So pretty and so neat. 
We love them for their beauties, 

And all their charming ways, 
The good ones and the sweet ones 

We love them for their praise. 

They change man's cup of sorrow, 

And pleasures with him share, 
The bosom that is broken. 

They mend it with their care. 
May God be with the women, 

And teach them how to live, 
And how to use the blessings 

Which only they can give. 

SOCIALISM. 
You have riches like the few, 

You lose riches, you'll have none, 
If proportioned equal through, 

Law may teach what law has done. 
Testing changes is a rule 

That may work sometimes the best, 
But this life-time is a school 

That should teach how men are blest. 



SmCEKlTY. 

True sincerity of mind 

May prompt the heart within. 
To do the right and live the right 

And guard off thoughts of sin. 
Sincerity, sincerity, 

Essential in this life, 
In every worthy deed and thought 

To live and do the right. 



ALLEN DOIIMAN'S POEMS. 387 

SOCHATES. 
The great men of the ancient world 

Whose names are suns of light, 
Must be of metal rare and pure, 

That wear of time makes bright. 
The wotiders of the ancient times 

That live with steady worth, 
May show the actions of great men 
That have lived to bless the earth. 

Immortal, yes, is Socrates, 

Immortal from his day, 
Immortal in the hearts of men, 

Immortal will he stay. 
So all young persons should be true. 

And work like Socrates, 
And live to help and bless the world 

In ways of liberties. 

SOUTHERN CLIMES. 

The southern climes are sweet in name, 

The southern, sunny climes. 
Where mountain streams of waters flow 

Through groves of stately pines. 
Where shady forests chime with song 

And groves invite the breeze, 
And nature offers nature's praise 

That reign near southern seas. 

The southern climes, the southern climes, 

Where nature's products grow, 
And life may live in luxury 

From nature's rich bestow. 
The southern climes of pride and worth, 

A country for the free, 
A land of hope destined to make 

A star of liberty. 



388 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

SUCCESS. 
The limits of this mortal sphere, 

Where great success attain, 
Are 'prisoned in the narrow bounds 

Of mortal loss and gain. 
And where we risk we sometitnes lose 

In benefits of wealth. 
Success that brings in fortune's prize 

May bring on impaired health. 

Success, indeed, may want some need, 

No harvest time may bring 
Neglect of blessings in this life, 

So nigh in earthly things. 
There is no wealth, however great, 

This mortal may attain, 
But what may cc»st some battle loss, 

Some censure or son]e blame. 



SHE WAS TRUE. 
She was true and she was faithful. 

She was true when came the test. 
She was honest in her actions 

With the one she loved the best. 
Though the test came unexpected. 

But it did not come too late, 
As a test may tell the story. 

On which turns success or fate. 

She was true in mind and motive. 

She was true for more than naught, 
As a test that is found wanting 

Is where truth is never caught. 
Yes, it is the old, old story, 

Known in Heaven high above 
Not a fairy dream or fable. 

But a case of maiden's love. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 389 

SPKING IS FLEETING. 

Spring is fleeting, life is fleeting, 

Spring will come but can't remain, 
And in all its constant changes 

Seems to never come in vain. 
Time is going, we are sowiiig 

Deeds m life for good or bad, 
Life is wrought as we are taught, 

Many changes sweet and sad. 

Life is fleeting, life is changing. 

Life is but a summer's dream, 
Gliding downward, swiftly onward, 

As the current of a stream. 
We are passing, we are fleeting 

With the spring of life away, 
And like roses of the summer, 

Brief we come but cannot stay. 

Spring is fleeting with its gladness. 

With its song and with its praise, 
In its leaving it is taking 

Many bright and golden days. 
It is waking, it is taking 

Hopes to us so new and bright, 
And is talvjng life so sacred 

With its pleasures of delight. 

Spring is fleeting, spring is fleeting. 

With its cheering songs so free, 
And its praises are engulfing 

Into time's eternity. 
Spring is fleeting, life is fleeting, 

On the restless wings of time. 
And life is lost that is not spent 

Serving God who is divine. 



390 ALLEN DOLM^iN S POEMS. 

SUMMEK DAYS. 

The blessings of sweet summer days 

Are sacred to my heart, 
And gladly would I liave them stay 

With time that must depart. 
Yes, stay for me and free for all. 

With all their hope and ]iiai&e, 
The scenes of scholars in their sports 

That come with summer days. 

But there are longings in the heart 

That summer may not free, 
And if life had no other hopes 

It sometimes sad would be. 
But God is wise in all his ways, 

His laws are ever best, 
He cares for poor humanity, 

And hearts are truly blest. 

The pleasures of sweet summer days 

They cheer the fainting heart. 
Though pleasures are but vanities 

They come and soon depart. 
I sometimes sit beneath some tree, 

And sweetly think and write, 
And fondly think of memories 

Till it is almost night. 

Yes, there is praise in summer days, 

Oh, would they never cease, 
There's solace for the weary heart, 

There's comfort, love and peace. 
So let us work in earnest now. 

Dear friends, we should be true. 
As summer days that come and go 

Have hope for me and you, 



ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. JJ91 

feHALL EARTH RETAIN. 

fehall earth retain its works and name, 

Its mighty works sublime, 
Shall they be known and sought and 
watched, 

Upon the shores of time? 
Oh, can it be with this one earth, 

And others like the same, 
When people here have passed away, 

Shall earth retain its name 'i 

Shall earth retain its mighty works. 

Its darkness and its day? 
Shall earth retain the works of man, 

Or shall they pass away ? 
Shall all the good things done on earth. 

Be hopeful done in vain, 
Or shall they all forever live 

And thus retain their names? 

If earth must sink in time's abyss 

With all its works sublime, [where 

Then hearts should build their treasures 

They will not pass with time. 
We know its said of some great-men 

Of honor and of fame, 
When they are dead their souls do live, 

And earth retains their names. 

But can it be with worlds like this, 

This gi-eat and wondrous earth. 
Shall its material substance here 

Live on like souls of worth? 
Beyond this life, this changing life, 

Where souls forever reign. 
And cherished fondly by the soul. 

Shall earth retain its namel 



M ALLEJSr DOHMAN'S POEMS. 

SAD FROM SOREOW. 
My troubled heart it now is sad, 

Its almost gone astray, 
The sun that once appeared so bright 

Has lost its golden ray. 
This heart is cold, this lieait is weak, 

Life lingers nigh the tomb. 
The cherished liope tliat once was bright 

Has all been changed to gloom. 

My hopes have fled, yes, they are gone, 

My troubles make me sad, 
My heart is cold, my heart is weak, 

I cannot make it glad. 
The sun that rises in the morn 

And makes each day so bright, 
And spreads its glories everywhere, 

Is now no more than night. 

Where e'er I go I'm haunted still, 

With sorrow and desj)air, 
Life's sorrows cold have chilled the soul 

And left its blemish there. 
Oh, none can feel or realize 

The sorrows of a day, 
Till sorrows come and do the heart 

The evil that it may. 

Oh, what is life with mcrtals here, 

To think that death is soon, 
Or if it be that life is spared 

To live a life of gloom. 
Sometimes I lay upon the bed 

That I may find relief. 
Where e'er I go, where e'er I stay. 

My heart is filled with grief. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 393 

With him who has such troubles great, 

And suffers as I do, 
May sadly think as now this heart 

It never can be true. 
Oh, now it is mj hopes have fled, 

And life is losing fast 
All cherished hopes once dear to me, 

With sorrows of the past. 

Yes, once it was my hopes were bright. 

And hopes I thought would stay, 
And gladdened thoughts, that labors 
brought, 

Were brightening every day. 
But now my troubled heart must mourn 

Because my hopes have fled, 
All like the roses of my youth. 

Have faded and are dead. 



SOLD. 

Sold, yes, sold, O maiden fair. 

Your heart is torn from me. 
For you have chose another heart 

To love and cherish thee. 
Yes, you have left me all alone, 

And now my heart is sad, 
My heart is weak, my heart is worn, 

And it cannot be glad. 

'Tis useless now to wait for thee, 

'Tis wasting life, you know, 
As'love that seeks a harvest yield 

Must have its time to grow. 
So I will claim another heart. 

And do the best I can, 
And try to live in spite of fate 

To be a better man. 



394 ALLEN DOliMAN'S POEMS. 

SWEET MAIDEN. 

Be faithful to-day, swett maiden. 

For life's a journey we know 
That leads o'er hill and nior.ntain. 

And rough is the way we go. 
Be faithful to-day, fair n)aiden. 

Be kiiid wiJJi deeds of love. 
As God in his glory hath given 

Us hopes that leadeth above. 

Be faithful to-day, true maiden, 

The seeds we scatter we reap, 
And life's an empty devotion 

That searches for nothing but sleep. 
Be earnest and faithful, sweet maiden, 

And labor while it is day. 
As life and its labors are real, 

And not to be trifled away. 

THE BEAUTIFUL. 

The beautiful, the beautiful. 

So fascinating nigh, 
So charmingly, so gracefully. 

So pleasing to the eye. 
Oh, beautiful, yes, beautiful. 

As of bright Heaven's home. 
With charms that charm so lovingly 

That only love has known. 

The beautiful, the beautiful. 

When woman fair is thine, 
And flush in all her loveliness. 

So gentle and refined. 
To thee, true type of beautiful, 

We'll worship and reflect. 
And give to thee for what thou art, 

This homage of respect. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 395 

THE TRAIN MY BOOK LEFT ON. 
The train my promised book left on, 

My manuscript of verses, 
The scenes I never shall forget, 

The cars seenjed like some hearses. 
My nmnuscript went by express, 

I saw the train in motion, 
The printer's mercy was my hope, 

Experience was my portion. 

THE SAME FIX. 
If you would live you'll have a foe 

To wrong you when he can. 
With such this heart has played a ])art, 

With one contrary man. 
Yes, I had heard about his work, 

His angry words that burn, 
He tried to sway some worthy fiiends, 

But then they would not tuin. 

I met him in his office once. 

He was a little beat, 
He did not wish to talk with me 

Or ask me have a seat. 
And in the room a woman sat, 

Who was in the same fix-, 
He had been telling her of me 

About some awful tricks. 

She looked at me with interest, 

And opened both jier eyes, 
I thought no wonder and indeed, 

That she should be surprised. 
I did not feel like loving him, 

Or getting mashed on her, 
For when I turned to take my leave 

They did not interfere. 



396 ALLEN DORMAN'S FOEM§. 

THE PJSIKG SUK 

See the glorious sun is rising, 

How lie sheds his gladdened ra}', 
And dispels the night and darkness, 

As he opens into day. 
Grand and wondrous is his greatness, 

Busy, boundless and sublime. 
He has stood the test of ages. 

And the wear and spoils of time. 

er the hiil and o'er the meadows, 

O'er the forest all around. 
All that faces him is gladdened 

Wlieie the smiling sun is found. 
Through the air he's peiietratiug 

O'er the fields and far away. 
Where the golden sun is shining 

Turns the darkness into day. 

He has shone thro' other ages 

In the olden times of yore. 
And on many fields of battle 

He has shotie with biightiiees o'er. 
He has watched tlie minute ages, 

All the nations of the earth, 
He has watched their many changes 

And the laws that gave them birth. 

He has given life to mortals, 

And his light to every one, 
He has shone for days unnumbered, 

And will shine till days are done. 
Praise to God who gives us sunlight 

As a world so bright and new, 
God of earth and God of Heaven, 

Like the sun is ever true. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. ^97 

THE PRAIKIE ROSE. 
As I passed one day in summer 

O'er a broad and fertile plain, 
Found I on the high prairie, 

Where a queen of roses reigned. 
It was in the gladdened morning, 

And the sky was clear and bright, 
And the little birds were singing 

In their pleasure and delight. 

High upon the broad prairie, 

And in nature's garden wide, 
Found I there a rose uncherished 

Blooming in its golden pride. 
First 1 tliought I'd cull it gentle. 

And Vd take it home with me, 
That I may be with it often, 

And its sacred beauties sec. 

But I did not harm its beauties. 

No, I did not give it pain. 
But I left it unmolested. 

With the hope to como again. 
Thus it is with mortal features 

That we meet with on the way, 
Loved and cherished in our fancy, 

But they cannot with us stay. 

Yes, 'tis true with mortal features, 

Blooming, Hush with hope and praise, 
May be cherished like the roses, 

But are given numbered day. 
What are we but transient beings. 

Mortals in our earthly bloom. 
Like the roses in our nature 

Mindful of approaching doom. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THANKS. 

On one evening in the spring time, 

While the sunny slcy waa glad, 
Gaily sang one little robin 

Till my weary heart was sad, 
I was sitting 'neath a shade-tree, 

Spending pleasantly the time. 
Thinking of the scenes around me 

And the fruits that labors find. 

While I sat beneath the shade-tree 

Came a robin just above, 
And the song he sang so sweetly 

Was a song of heaven's love. 
Long and sweet sang little robin. 

And his cheering song was free, 
And I fi'It it was a blessing. 

God had sent there unto me. 

Thanks to Heaven, thanks to robin, 

Thanks to all so good and kind, 
For such treat I least expected, 

More than I should claim as mine. 
Nature has its hidden blessings, 

And it has a rich reward, 
Anl we will be sure to tind it, 

If we truly serve the Lord. 



TRADED IT OFF. 
'Tis startling indeed the manner of greed, 

The trading this world has done, 
Its bartered away life's morning and day 

For riches, pleasure and fun. 



ALLEN DORMAN'3 POEMS. 399 

Its wasted its days and blessings of ])raise, 
Grown hateful, selfish and old, 

The blessings of self and charms of health, 
Its traded them off for gold. 

The pilgrims of youth have slighted the 
truth, 
And tempted their hearts astray, 
And worshiped seeming, vanity's dream- 
ing, 
And passed with their sins away. 
They've suffered the rod, insulted their 
God, 
And worship themselves ten-fold. 
They have wasted life in broils of strife 
And traded time off for gold. 

Oh, maiden,fair maiden, beautiful maiden, 

Your blooming and charming ways, 
YouVe traded for sin, that fastened you in. 

And lost your beauty and praise. 
You've wasted sweet life, in trouble and 
strife, 

Have sinned and lost the soul, 
"What cherished the heart you've sundered 
apart. 

And traded it off fdf gold. 

Your features so bright and hopes of de- 
light. 

The beauties you once possessed, 
You've wasted for gold and miseries untold, 

Yet saw that others were blest. 
Yes, cupid of love, like angel above, 

Your fortunes were put and sold, 
You've traded it off, yes, traded it off, 

Love was traded for gold. 



400 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

THE FALLING LEAFLET. 

One morniiig as I wandered forth 

Through woodland, on my way 
Where iiature was serene and still, 

And birds were singing gay. 
The sky was clear, the sun shone bright, 

So warm and gentle down, 
I sat myself beneath a tree 

To rest upon the ground. 

It was in autumn of the year, 

The winter coming on. 
And all the gentle roses fair 

Were faded then and gone. 
I noticed round the forest trees 

Some stately, grand and tall, 
And from the utmost top of one 

A leaf began to fall. 

It was a breeze, a gentle sigh, 

That broke its slender stem. 
And bore it gently to the earth, 

A worn and lifeless gem. 
The chilling storm and icy sleet, 

And snows of winter came. 
And buried it beneath the earth, 

Ho more to live again. 

And so it is with ns, dear friends, 

A mighty forest round, 
Are prone to fall when deatli shall couie, 

As lifeless mortals down. 
When M^e have served our purpose here 

In death's unconscious breeze, 
We'll fall as victims to the earth 

As leaflets from tlie trees. 



i 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 401 

THE CLINTON BATTLE. 

Tlie Clinton battle was a sight, 

It was a sight for me, 
Though I was very little then, 

It was in sixty-three. 
It was between the North and South, 

Tho' neither won the clay. 
The rebels tobk them on surprise 

And thus began the play. 

The Yankees heard the opening guns, 

The rebels on the raid, 
And thus began to hide and run 

For they were so afraid. 
And some old men and citizens, 

Who heard the mighty rush. 
Soon thought that times were rather hot 

And started for the brush. 

Some gallant soldiers sprained theirguns 

By shooting in the storm. 
And shot and shot excitedly 

For times were pretty warm. 
And fierce and long the battle raged, 

And stamping horses I'un, 
And shot-guns played an active part 

Until the fight was done. 

It was indeed a frightful time, 

With some who saw the sight, 
Eor many people did not wish 

To see the Clinton fight. 
But then you know as things like these 

Must go in history down, 
To show just how the battle went 

Fought at the banner town. 



m ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THE TEBO WAGON. 

The first new wagon bought by me 

Was the Tebo wagon, 
It was when I was yoniig and free, 

And heard njen 'bout it braggin'. 
Some men would talk and often try 

To tell us something new, 
About some wagon they would buy, 

If they were I or you. 

And tliey would praise some eastern firm, 

And patronize the same, 
And talk with hawk-eyed men on terms, 

To spoil our wagon's name. 
But Tebo wagon was the best, 

Unhurt by competition. 
And it had truly stood the test. 

Regardless of condition. 

Its wheels have rolled thro' muddy lanes, 

Throughout the distant west, 
And stood the sunshine and the rains, 

As none could but the best. 
Its timbers were of seasoned wood, 

And worked l^y skillful hands, 
Its hubs were strong and sound and good 

And bound with iron bands. 

Its bed was strong as all may know, 

Its paint was neat and bright, 
Its standards and its bolsters show'd 

Were put together right. 
So patronize the nearest firms. 

While in the west you roam, 
And they will give you better terms, 

And keep your stamps at home. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 403 

THIS YAIN WORLD. 

This world is vain, this world is sad, 

This world is cold and brief, 
For many sleepless nights I've spent 

In sorrow and in grief. 
Oh, one I've loved, O it was true 

This heart M^as filled with pain, 
If you could know its bitter woe 

You'd feel that life was vain. 

For I am sick and I am sad, 

This heart is broken now, 
Since it has lost all hope of thee 

It knows no other vow. 
Yes, once I fondly thought of thee, 

And claimed thy love and grace. 
But as it is I sadly wish 

I ne'er had seen thy face. 

What must I do, where must I go, 

That life may find content, 
Why should I stay and mourn away, 

And o'er and o'er repent? 
This heart is sick and broken now. 

It pains me every breath, 
If life could be the same with thee 

Thy choice would be death. 

Is there a God who dwells above, 

And gives us liberty, 
And gives to earth His blessings down 

For poor humanity. 
Why should not he now think of me 

That I may useful live, 
And find in life, away from strife. 

The pleasure to forgive. 



404 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

THUMPS FOK ME. 

Yes, I love my little lady, 

And she loves me in return, 
When we gladly meet each other, 

Something new in love we learn. 
Could I be with lovely maiden, 

And her gentle actions see, 
I would know she has the keeping 

Of the heart that thumps for me. 

For I feel there is no other 

That will love me half so well, 
As my little lovely lady, 

As her gentle actions tell. 
Thus I feel 'tis sweet to love her. 

And to ever claim her free, 
For within her gentle bosom 

Dwells the heart that thumps for me. 

Could I have no little maiden, 

Sweet to claim and cheer me on, 
Life indeed would be a burden, 

And bright hopes would soon be gone. 
With no love and with no lady. 

Should my lot this portion be, 
Hopes I cherish soon would perish 

If no heart would thump for me. 

But I will be true to maiden, 

And I'll claim lier as my own. 
And I'll splice with her affections, 

And I'll cease to live alone. 
For I know there is a blessing 

Cherished in her bosom free, 
That will cheer me on my journey, 

'Tis the heart that thumps for me. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 405 

Yes, ril claim my little maiden 

With a vow of life-long cheer, 
And as life is crowned with blessings, 

I will share them all with her. 
Yes, the fruits of earnest labor, 

All that life shall ever be, 
I will share them all with maiden, 

And the heart that thumps for me. 



THE bOUL'S IDENTITY. 

The soul within, immortal soul. 

Why not we know each other, 
When we shall reach eternity, 

And gladly meet forever. 
We know that hearts may sometimes doubt 

That souls shall reach those portals. 
Or that there is a real home 

Where souls shall meet immortal. 

Oh, shall our features be so changed. 

Or shall our eyes be blinded. 
That we may never meet our friends 

Or by them be remembered. 
Why not we know, when we shall meet 

Where angels meet forever, 
And gladly know as we are known 

The features of each other. 

Oh yes, we shall, we surely shall. 

Is ])roof within our feelings, 
That we shall know forever more 

Our brother's face and dealings. 
Yet God knows best, He'll make it right, 

Adapted to our pleasure. 
For Heaven's best of all His works. 

His pride, His home, His treasure. 



406 ALLEN DOfiMAN'S POEMS. 

THE AIMLESS BARK. 

The aimless ship far out at sea, 

Upon the ocean wide, 
Which has no purpose and no aim, 

And sails without a guide. 
Is tossed by winds both to and fro, 

And sometimes far awa}^ 
And careless sails that it may float 

To sail anotlier day. 

It only floats because it can, 

And has no view within, 
Nor does it think or realize 

Its miglity course of sin. 
It sees the traffic of the woi'ld. 

The busy ships around. 
Yet in course is sadly wrecked, 

And goes forever down. 

And thus how true with idle hearts, 

That live from day to day, 
And have no purpose and no aim 

To guide them on the way. 
They seek to h've because they can. 

And have no view within, 
Their purpose is an idle one. 

Their course is that of sin. 

Their bark is perfect in its make. 

Was built by hands above, 
But they have used it for no aim, 

No deeds of truth and love. 
But driven by the waves of life, 

From place to place they float. 
As wrecks out in the wide, Mide world, 

They sail within their boat. 



ALLEN DOKMANS POEiMS idl 

And they are tossed with troubled sins, 

They fail to ever try, 
They see the good things of the world, 

But pass them idly by. 
From wear and tear their bark is wrecked 

Where all around was bright, 
And ain)lessly and hopelessly 

They sink in depths of night. 



THE BOOK OF LIFE. 

The book of life, the.book we write, 

The book life leaves behind, 
Is written with the heart's consent 

Through labors of the mind. 
Yes. all we say and all we do, 

And every thought and look 
That go to make u]) character, 

Are written in the book. 

The days are pages of the book, 

And deeds are what we write. 
And sins are blots upon the page 

That soil the stainless life. 
The life within comprise the book, 

And written there within. 
And God, the reader of the book 

Sees all the good and sin. 

Yes, all the labors of the heart. 

Its efi'orts and its strife 
Are monun)ents of what we do. 

And in the book of life. 
The book of life iiow true with all. 

Oh. who can say with them, 
Tiiei' bool< its eaves no ')i()t has soiled. 

On every page a gem. 



408 .JkLLEN UOKMAN'S POEM?. 

THE SONG SHE SANG. 
It was on one Sabbath evening 

In tlie distant days of yore, 
Whem I met with lovely maiden, 

Saw the pretty charms she wore. 
At her home within her parlor. 

Gathered friendly playmates free, 
There it was I heard fair maiden, 

Sing the song she sang for me. 

Kany days I've lonely wandered 

Sadly down the road of life, 
Time has brought me sweet and bitter. 

Time has brought me pain and strife. 
Yet I think of her and often, 

Though her face I cannot see, 
Yet I love her much as ever 

And the song she sang for me. 

THE SHOP OF TOIL. 

The grim shop of daily toil. 

The shop of work and care, 
The shop of labor and of task, 

The shop of constant wear. 
The shop where daily bread is earned 

With duty's constant hand. 
The business and the livelilioocl 

Of every useful man. 

The shop where worthy hearts are pressed, 

And woi-n with constant work, 
Where trying scenes of grim despair 

May sometimes welcome shirk. 
The shop that wears from constant use, 

The beating heart within. 
And yet the heart may overcome, 

If its determ'd to win. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S PO^EMS. 409 

THIS SAD HEART. 
Oh, this heart is weak and weary 

And is troubled every day, 
All that life has hoped to gather 

Has imtiniely passed away. 
Grief has settled in this bosom, 

Life is not the same with me, 
All the good of earthly blessings 

Could not make this bosom free. 

Down within this restless bosom, 

Down and deep within the soul, 
Lies the germ of love forsakened. 

Fate and sin hath made it cold. 
Oh, to God, the God of Heaven. 

I appeal to thee alone, 
Wilt thou keep my heart from aching, 

Wilt thou claim me as thine own. 

Oh, had I not trusted maiden 

With the love I hold so dear, 
Had I trusted God my Savior, 

He would not have left me here. 
Had I served my God for blessings, 

For the love 1 truly need, 
He would not have left me helpless, 

Or have left me poor indeed. 

Earthly ties are ties of trifles, 

They are ties that sadly break, 
And the heart is soon forsakened 

By the ties it tries to make. 
If we trust in God for favors 

He will kind and freely give, 
Ai:d will not as flesh desert us, 

But will help us while we live, 



410 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THAT SAUCY LOOK. 

This life is not a sliadow, 

And time is not a stream, 
When time and life unravels 

What sometimes things may seem. 
For there is one fair maiden, 

So pretty and so neat, 
That you may rest assured 

Her beauty can't be beat. 

Now maidens have tlieir notions, 

And many much the same, 
And many meek and modest, 

It would be wrong to blame. 
^or frequent nigh her window 

While looking at her book, 
And I was busy passing. 

She's gave a saucy look. 

Yes, well I now remember 

When maiden looked at me, 
And looked a little lovely, 

As saucy as could be. 
Oh, yes, we love those lookings, 

As maiden reads her book, 
And if her love is lasting 

We'll get another look. 

In love there's life and luring, 

In hope there's praise and song ; 
And they may cheei- us gladly, 

As life lives sweetly on. 
So I will tell with pleasure 

Of those good times and looks 
That others may be prompted 

To likewise read their books. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 411 

THE LITTLE BIRDS. 
The little birds, little birds, 

How sweet they sing each day, 
They seem to know the spring time 

Or when its golden May. 
'Tis sweet to hear them freely 

Carol their gentle song. 
And catcli their notes of music, 

They sing at early morn. 

The little birds, little birds, 

They sing for you and me, 
And hop about in brushes 

And then from tree to tree. 
Oh, yes, it is their portion 

To sing their happy lay. 
And live a life of gladness, 

And chirp it all away. 

The little birds, little birds, 

'Tis sweet to hear them sing, 
The songs they sing in gladness, 

And make the forest ring. 
The little birds so cheerful 

May sing the heart to rest. 
They sing their songs of freedom 

And all are truly blest. 

The little birds, little birds. 

They sing so glad and free. 
They sing among the mountains 

Or in some bush or tree. 
Yes, nigh the deep wide river. 

And through the bright days long. 
Wherever we may wander. 

We hear their gentle song. 



412 ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 

THE SOUTHERN CAUSE. 

Tlie South, the South, of pride and song, 

Has bore its Hag unfurled, 
The flag which often clialleuged odds, 

And battled with the world. 
The Southern cause which rose and fell 

Beneath a Southern sun, 
Appeared on many a battle field 

With many a victory won. 

But odds too great and foes too strong, 

The Southern cause went down, 
Where many a noble spirit fell 

Beneath the canon's sound. 
The cause was lost as events came, 

Went down for age and time, 
Its trials now are sadly told 

In history and rhyme. 

The South, the South, so dear to me, 

The land I love so well. 
The land of war and memories 

Where many a soldier fell. 
The land where brothers fought and bled, 

The land that's suffered wrongs, 
The land with tombs and memories, 

The land of peace and song. 

The land where brooklets now run clear 

Of blood where battles fought, 
The land whose losing has regained 

A nobler conscience brought. 
The South, the land of peace and love. 

And deeds of noble men. 
The land where nature's sun is bright 

And brothers find a friend. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 413 

THE NORTH. 

The North, tlie laud of freedom, 

The hind for you and me, 
Tiie North, the South, my country, 

Extends from sea to sea. 
The North, the South united. 

The East, the West combined, 
Resound we are a nation 

Whose Savior is divine. 

The North, the land of plenty, 

The land of peace and health, 
The home of great inventions, 

Of commerce and of wealth. 
Tiie land where fought our fathers 

For liberty and peace, 
And made our land a nation, 

A name that will not cease. 

Oh, peace, be with njy country, 

My nation and my home, 
Where liberty with monarch 

Has power to disthi'one. 
A land of wealth and grandeur, 

A country proud and high, 
A nation and republic 

That was not born to die, 

A land of war and battles, 

With foe on every side, 
A country spread with ruins, 

A nation true and tried. 
A country strong defended 

Beneath a golden sun, 
Wliere brothers as a natioij 

United we ai'C one, 



414 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

TO MY MOTHER. 

To my mother, to mj mother 

To mj dearest friend on c; itl;, 
She's to me as is none otiici, 

All I hold as sacred worth. 
Love and hope and cherished fiiendship, 

Kindled in mj early youth, 
Taught by thee, O, mother, mother, 

In thy ways of love and truth. 

Pardon now those jealous feelings, 

For I, not the favorite son. 
But to thee I owe it, mother, 

All the good that I have done. 
All I am and all I cherish, 

All I ever hoped to be 
Was implanted in my bosom, . 

And was nourisiied there by thee. 

Let thy son bo not i-ejected 

Of the love you have in store, 
Tho' to manhood he has struggled, 

But he needs you only more. 
Needs thy love and needs thy favors, 

Needs thy help to honor thee, 
As the eldest of thy boys 

He has told them " follow me." 

Life has been with us, dear mother, 

Mingled thoughts of good and bad, 
Friends have turned and kindred left us 

When our weary hearts were sad. 
But you've labored with your duty, 

And your efforts will be blest, 
You liave kept us all together, 

And have managed for the best. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 415 

Soon thy duties may be ended, 

And thy duties will be o'er, 
Soon our liearts are prone to scaner, 

And perhaps to meet no more. 
But we all shall meet, dear mother, 

In that better world of love, 
Where our care-worn hearts of sorrow 

Will be gathered home above. 



THAT FAR-AWAY HOME. 
That far-off home, that distant home. 

That home so far away. 
Where weary pilgi'ims, wlien they reach, 

Are thus induced to stay. 
Tluit home so far, so very far, 

The heart when often pressed 
May seek in it another home. 

In hope of sweeter rest. 

That distant home, ])erjietu"I home. 

That liome of joy and praise. 
Hath safely stc^od, and yet will stand, 

Through everhisting days. 
That home of peace and joy and love 

Where all is bright and fair. 
And where the sun forever shines, 

And hearts are free from care. 

That far-off home, unwasting home, 

Deyond this mortal sight, 
Tliat home for which this bosom yearns. 

That home forever bright. 
Tiiai far off home, immortal home, 

Fi rever is the same. 
And thus we call it Heaven's home. 

For Heaven is its name. 



416 ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 

THAT GIUL SO FAIR. 

That girl so fair, that girl so fair, 

That girl I love so well, 
She dearly loves me in return. 

Her name I must nf)t tell. 
Yes, she is true and kind to me, 

Her heart is free and light, 
And when I often think of her 

My thinkers then are bright. 

Whenever I may troubled be, 

Her heart is with me then, 
I feel that she is dear to me, 

I know she is my friend. 
Yes, she is fair and beautiful. 

And lovely as the day, 
She cheers me in my loneliness, 

Tliough I am far aw^ay. 

I love her for her pretty charms 

And all her pretty ways, 
And for her deeds of kindness, 

And for her gentle praise. 
She is the maiden of my heart, 

The maiden of my youth, 
And all her ways are prettj' ways, 

For they are ways of truth. 

Oh, sweet, indeed, it is to love 

And live a life of praise. 
And live a life of usefulness 

Through bright and sunny days. 
It tills the heart with energy 

And lures it gladly on. 
And bids us do our duty right 

Till duty's cares are gone. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 417 

So let US labor day by day, 

And do our duty right, 
And labor for a useful cause, 

While all around is bright. 
The birds that sing and buds that bloom. 

And hearts so true and gay. 
That number with mortality. 

Must, like us, pass away. 



THE WASP. 

Tiie wasp is a shrewd little creature. 

With gauzy and beautiful wdngs, 
Her form and her njanners are stylish. 

While flying she buzzingly sings. 
She ventures out late in the morning. 

And madly she blusters away, 
And steals in the house or the parlor. 

There to build her closet of clay. 

Wherever she goes with her noise 

She's bothersouie, busy and mad, 
And lives for iierself and her evils 

,Because her own nature is bad. 
She weai's a fine corset, siie fancies, 

And cramps hei'self. delicate thing, 
And laces op tight as the devil, 

Which shai'])ens her evils to sting. 

And thus it is truly with women. 

Who fasten their corsets up tight, 
Are often both lazy and peevish. 

And seldom are useful and right. 
Of all the great evils of women, 

In lacing or wearing the bend, 
And thoughtless deforming the person, 

May equal some evils of men. 



418 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

TIME'S FLxiMING SWORD. 

Time's fliuning sword burns quick behind, 

Consuming time that's past, 
And burning up the precious time 

That hastens by so fast. 
It crowds us on, we dare not stop, 

It feeds on passing time, 
And hurries as it swiftly comes 

With rapid flames behind. 

Time's flaming sword it drives us on. 

As Adam and with Eve, 
And placed behind its flaming sword 

The same that we receive. 
We can't return to times that's past, 

Or turn to early youth, 
Time's flaming sword will quick prevent, 

And carry out this truth. 

THIS TENANT HOUSE. 

This tenant house, this mortal fi-ame, 

That wastes from constant wear, 
Will soon get old and lose its worth 

From long and constant care. 
This tenant house, this mortal coil. 

Wherein the soul doth live. 
Will soon wear out and we must move 

'^nd must possession give. 

This tenant house, this earthly home, 

We know cannot last long. 
So we should build another house. 

For self when tliis is gone. 
So let us build that other home 

In Heaven far away, 
And thus prepare to enter in, 

For this must soon decay. 



THIS SORROWFUL WORLD 

Tills sorrowful world, this wicked world, 

This world jf toil and pain, 
This world where sickncts fries the heart 

And hopes are often vain. 
This gloomy world, this world of sin, 

This world where hearts repent, 
This world where troubles test the soul, 

This world of discontent. 

This real world, this world of grief, 

Where bitter thoughts are bad, 
This world of sickness and of death, 

And all around is sad. 
This bittei world, this world of gloom, 

So full of grief and woe, 
Where hearts repine in misery 

And often sufl'er so. 

TOIL ON. 

Toil on, my friend, my brother, 

While in this world of care. 
For we have friends around us 

Whose hearts may with us share. 
Toil on through early morning, 

And ever labor true. 
The God of truth and glory 

Is ever watching you. 

Toil on, toil on in earnest. 

The harvest soon may come. 
When we may see more fully 

The good things we have done. 
Toil on with hope and duty. 

For soon life's work is o'er. 
When God shall then reward ua 

For good works then in store. 



420 ALLEN DOIIMANS POEMS. 

THE LIGHT OF FAITH. 
The light of faith, the light of hope, 

Of rt'seurch and of truth, 
Reveal the light of what we seek, 

In manhood or in jouth. 
The light of study and of thought. 

Of labor and design, 
Portrays the image of the wish, 

Within the 'wakening mind. 

The light of faith reveals the light 

Of other blessings sought. 
And be they far or be tliey nigh, 

Through faitli their scenes are caught. 
Through faith we see that far-ofi' honie. 

And study of the place. 
To it our magic visions flash, 

And thus we call it faith. 



THIS TURNING WORLD. 

This world's a place wheie tables turn. 

And all goes round and round, 
In changing events of one's life 

This principle is found. 
Perhaps you've heard your neighbor boast 

Of some prospective gain. 
And yet how often is it true 

Some fizzle at the same. 

This turning world turns round and round. 

And often men turn out, 
Are high to-day, to-moirow low. 

In what they are about. 
So let us live that we may learn 

The wisdom of the Lord. 
For he is ever watching us. 

And turns out life's reward. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 421 

THE BLOODY SHIRT. 
Two brothers went out one morning 

To have a fair light o'er a coon, 
And chose for their field bull pasture, 

That they might have plenty of room. 
The brothers they mustered their courage, 

And fixed themselves ready for fight, 
That one who was beat in the racket 

The other considered be i-ight. 

They battled like soldiers in earnest, 

And got their shirts bloody and red, 
And popped with their poppers defiant, 

Till God alone numbered the dead. 
The coon he skipped out for his freedom, 

The shirt was waved over the land, 
Till brothers got over their troubles 

And now are united to stand. 



THOU MUST RETURN 

Worthy one, thou must return 

With all thy merit true. 
Is this our sad petition 

We tender unto you? 
Thy heart, the pride of friendship, 

Witii feelings true and deep. 
Is torn from this, our circle, 

A gem it could not keep. 

Return, is our petition. 

Return in harvest day, 
And reap the good with others, 

You scattered by the way. 
Return and labor with us 

When other days shall come, 
For then you will be welcome. 

Thou true and worthy one, 



422 ALLEN DOllMANS POEMS. 

TREASURED IN TIME. 

Treasured in time, bow sweet to feel 

The heart has known its task, 
Aiid treasured from the long-gone hy 

Sweet blessings of tbe past. 
From bright days of glad sunny youth 

Have we one word or line, 
Or lasting good we cherish now, 

Safe treasured up for time. 

Oh. have we now one treasured deed, 

Down deep within the heart, 
We fondly cherish for its worth, 

And would not let depart. 
So let us work while days are bright, 

And while the sun may shine. 
And store sweet blessings for old age, 

And treasure up for time. 

THE GLOW OF YOUTH. 

The cherished good times of the past, 

The glow of early youth. 
Reveal the scenes of former days 

And show their sacred truth. 
When youth was bright and life was free 

In happy days of yore, 
The glow of youth was pleasant then 

As now, to think them o'er. 

The glow of youth was once my part 

When all was bright and free. 
And it was true perhaps with you. 

For it was true with me. 
The glow of youth, when all was bright, 

And all was cheerful praise. 
Are sacred treasures for old age. 

For they are youth's bright days. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 433 

TOO SMART. 

Men are becoming most too smart, 

To think that God is right, 
Or take His teachings as their guide 

From darkness unto light. 
If God is right. His book is right, 

Man may be right or wrong, 
Yet God will be when man his plea 

Has fizzled out and gone. 

TRIALS. 
The trials that we often bear 

Are blessings for the soul, 
They truly cleanse the alloyed heart, 

And make it pure, like gold. 
They purify the heart within 

By wearing off the bad, 
As often with the troubled heart 

Is better when its sad. 

Yes, trials are indeed a help. 

They fix us for the test. 
As often when the heart is tried, 

May know and come out best. 
Though trials often 'press the heart, 

And bring it tearful eyes, 
They sometimes prove a sacred help, 

As blessings in disguise. 

So let us all be thoughtful then, 

Of trials when they come. 
As they may prove as blessings quite, 

For good things wisely done. 
As when the rain clouds darkest seem, 

May be when fields are blest. 
And when the toil of day is done, 

May come the sweetest rest. 



424 ALLEN DOUMAN'S POEMS. 

TO WKITE A BOOK. 
To write a book you must be true, 

And labor all you can, 
And dare to try thro"' midnight toil 

With busy mind and hand. 
Some rooster snakes may envy you, 

And bother you as Hies, 
And slight you in their company. 

And scheme or whisper lies. 

To write a good book is to mourn 

Through battle and through pain, 
And suffer loss in many ways 

Where you were not to blame. 
But hearts will give you credit due 

For labors you have done, 
And God will give IJis blet-sings down 

Bei.eath a clear bright sun. 

To wiite a good book you must try 

And overcome the foe, 
You'll find objections in your way, 

And at your very door. 
Yes, some will hate you Mhilc you work, 

And from the very staiM 
Your fiercest battles may be fought 

Down deep within the heart. 

To write a good book you must toil, 

And dare to do the right. 
And overcome grciit jealousy. 

And conquer in the fight 
Yes, shoot to hurt and tight to win, 

And overcome defeat, 
While shot and shell fall thick and fast, 

There is no time to sleep. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 435 

To write a good book is to live 

Above this earthly strife, 
Bright in another world to come, 

Through one eternal life. 
And God, the searcher of all hearts. 

Of every thought and look. 
Will give us credit in that world 

For writing a good book. 

THE BIBLE. 
The Bible, O the Bible, 

The rarest book of all, 
Reveals us man's creation, 

His trial and his fall. 
It tells us of the ancients 

And stories rich sublime, 
Of ]M-odigals of ages. 

And distant gone-by times. 

It tells us of salvation, 

And blessings of the true, 
And gives us information, 

No other book can do. 
It tells us of sweet Heaven 

Beyond the richest gold. 
And portrays all the blessings 

That wait tlie inner soul. 



TIGER. 

Tiger, tiger, striped with colors, 

(Strength and beauty may possess, 
Yet within thy heart is tiger. 

If we truly know thee best. 
And, base woman, beauty's emblem. 

Lovely, pretty, fair and smart. 
May deceive unto destruction 

With her hidden tiger heart. 



426 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

TO THE MEMORY OF MY AGED 
GRANDFATHER, G. W. HANCOCK. 

How brief the gems are falling 

And sinking to the earth, 
And leaving- all behind them 

That lived and gave them birth. 
But yet the good and worthy 

Plave hope beyond the tomb, 
That they shall live immortal 

Beyond this earthly bloom. 

The promise that of meeting 

With others gone before, 
And living with the angels 

On Heaven's far-off shore. 
Beyond this home of dying, 

Beyond all grief and pain, 
Beyond all sad and sighing. 

We'll liope to meet again. 

THIS WORLD IS NOT. 

No, this world is not my station. 

No, this world is not my home, 
In a world beyond this journey 

Is a station for my own. 
Though the heart is tilled with pleasure, 

Yet the soul is never free, 
For its mindful of its moving 

Into one eternity. 

Yes, the heart is seeking solace, 

In its trouble and its care, 
In its pleasures and its praises, 

It has warnings of despair. 
Yes, the heart is ever drifting, 

With its restless thoughts amiss, 
Longing for a safe condition 

In a better world than this. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 437 

THOMAS MOOKE. 
We love to hear of great men, 

And 'call their actions o'er, 
And one of special brightness 

Is that of Thomas Moore. 
He was a man of merit, 

A man among the few. 
Who acted wise his purpose 

And served it well and true. 

His works are rich and famous, 

He was a useful man, 
Who wended his way upward 

Where only great men stand. 
His name will stand for ages, 

A burning star of light, 
And shedding forth its lustre, 

Clear like a diamond bright. 

THOMAS JEFFERSON. 
The great men whom we honor, 

The brilliant and the bright, 
May live thro' time and ages. 

As monuments of right. 
They shine like stars of glory, 

Thro' ages and thro' time, 
As monuments of merit, 

Elated and sublime. 

They 'waken thoughts of action, 

Of duty and of right, 
And luminate their country 

As stars eternal bright. 
As all great men of merit. 

Of present or the past, 
Like them we may be useful. 

And work some good at last, ■ 



4?8 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THE BAND BOYS. 

The band boys, the Clinton band, 

Oh, hear tliem smoothly play, 
Good music with their silver horns, 

Ehiting, sweet and gay. 
The band, the band, the cheering band, 

That lures the marching throng, 
And sways the heart to victory 

With its inspiring song. 

And thus it is with Chi-istian liearts, 

The angels with their band, 
Comes here in death to waft the soul 

To Heaven's blissful land. 
Where music it shall never die, 

And song shall never cease. 
In that bright home and country 

Of liberty and peace. 

THE OLD YEAR, 1889. 
The old year's gone untimely 

Into the boundless past, 
And leaves no trace behind it 

With many that will last. 
With me its been eventful, 

The old year eighty-nine, 
And left for me impressions 

Upon the scenes of time. 

I've been thrown oft' the mower, 

And been hurt on the head, 
My mother and grantlfather 

Are numbered with the dead. 
I have been stunned by lightning. 

And drowned almost to death, 
And gained the rank of author, 

'Mid hardships and good health. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 420 

TEUTH. 

Truth will survive, and just as sure 

Will vindicate its own, 
As God eternal is its watch, 

And Heaven is its home. 
The foe may prosper for a while 

And madly crush it deep. 
Yet truth will strengthen' bj its loss, 

And proper justice reap. 

Truth will survive the sway of sin. 

Of madness and of crime. 
And reap its portion properly 

In season and in time. 
Truth may be conquered and be crushed, 

And overcome by sin. 
Yet truth shall conquer in the end, 

And its possessions win. 

Eternal truth, ininiortal truth. 

In science and of worth, 
Of law and order everywhere 

Is not of mortal birth. 
Through all the ages of the past, 

Truth has and shall remain. 
Through darkness and obscurity, 

Will not exist in vain. 

Though truth may slumber for a while. 

Its hopes will live and stand. 
And God will have it to revive 

To carry out souje plan. 
So let us not despise the truth, 

For it is always right. 
And if we choose it as our own 

Our journey will be bright. 



430 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THAT SUN. 
That sun that rose this morning bright 

And shed his golden rajs, 
Hath in himself a history 

Of time and numbered dajs. 
He teaches what most things may teach, 

That history is true, 
And liath a history of his own. 

And watched earth's history too. 

He's watched the earth in all its ways. 

And if he had a mind 
Would have a knowledge inorethan earth, 

Or more than human kind. 
He laughs, he smiles in all his strength. 

His labors all are free, 
And spreads his glories everywhere, 

O'er every land and sea. 

He's watched the changes of the earth 

In all his splendor bright, 
And seen whatever earth hath seen 

For he hath gave the light. 
He's watched the world and all its works. 

The vulgar race of man. 
The histories of life and time 

Both on the sea and land. 

He's seen the world arrayed in war 

With armor, plate and shield. 
And seen the dying sink in death 

On many a battle-tield. 
He's seen the smoke of heavy guns 

Arise like clouds of light. 
And there reveal the scenes of death 

Where all around was bi'ight. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 431 

He's seen the ghostly sights of war, 

And all that history tells, 
The horrors of the battle-field, 

Its bombs and bursting shells. 
He's watched the prodigals of change, 

The lost events of time. 
And frantic things we read about 

In history and rhyme. 

He's watched the clash of interests. 

And histories untold, 
And events that have taken place 

In tragic times of old. 
And all that scriptures tell about, 

The trials of the right. 
The sun was shining brightly then. 

And watched them with his light. 

That sun, that sun, that glorious sun, 

Hath shone for ages past, 
His smile is hope, his light is health, 

And will for ages last. 
He's saw volcanic ruptures rise, 

Rank growth and living green, 
The mountain and the far-away 

That sun hath truly seen. 

That sun, that sun, voluptuous sun, 

That golden world of light. 
He shines for me aud shines for you 

In all his splendor bright. 
And God hath made him so for man, 

To shine alike for all, 
That those who seek his golden light 

May ne'er in darkness fall. 



453 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

THE SUKIs^' SOUTH. 
The sunny south, the southern, 

Its future none can tell, 
How grand may be its glories. 

The land I love so well. 
The home of peace and freedom, 

The land of real worth. 
A sunny star of glory, 

A bright land of the earth. 

The sunny south I cherish, 

I love to hear its name, 
And of its verdant forests, 

And fields of golden grain. 
A land of hope and honor, 

A land of sunny days, 
A land of hills and valleys, 

A land of pride and praise. 

A land of war and struggles 

On many a battle-lield, 
A land of loyal soldiers 

With hearts as true as steel. 
A land of song and valor, 

"Where right should ever reign, 
And hurl the stripes of freedom 

O'er every hill and plain. 

The sunny south of treasure. 

Its fields of fertile soil, 
Its cotton and its orange. 

Its men of thrift and toil. 
Its range and herds of cattle 

From north and south and west, 
Tlie sunny south forever, 

The land I love the best. 





From a photograpL of llie laij;est Oriiuge Tree in Florkia. Measures 
8 feet 6 inches at base, is 37 feet liigh, and has a crop of over Q,000 sweet 
Oranges hanging on its boughs. The fruit from this tree brings from $150 
to $175 every yea.--. Situated near "Waldo, on the Transit E. B. 

THE SUNNY SOUTH. -Page 433. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 433 

THIS GLOOMY LIFE. 

This life is dark and sorrowful, 

This heart is aching now, 
This heart has lost its dearest hope, 

And seeks no other vow. 
I have no friends, I seek no friends, 

There's none that cares for me, 
The heart, this heart has loved so much, 

It does not care to see. 

This heart is sad and wretched now, 

This heart is filled with grief, 
This heart is cold and miserable, 

It cannot find relief. 
It is not well, for it is sad. 

This life is filled with gloom. 
And often thinks of pleasures sweet 

That are beyond the tomb. 

The birds may sing their gentle songs, 

And friends may come to me, 
But I am sad, my heart is sad, 

I cannot make it free. 
I try to wear my troubles off 

And bid them not to stay, 
But while I try to wear them ofi", 

I'm wearing life away. 

This heart, this heart, this troubled heart. 

Is sad as sad can be. 
There was no other friend on earth 

That was so dear to me. 
Farewell, farewell, alas, farewell, 

As death may soon release 
This aching heart, yet all it asks 

Is but to die in peace. 



434 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THE PAST. 

Thu past, the past, the sacred past, 

Tlie cherislied thoughts of time, 
May often bring to memory 

Sweet pleasures for the mind. 
Yes, long past hopes of memory, 

And in tiie days gone by. 
Oh, when we often think of them 

Tliey seem to be so nigh. 

The past, the past, how dear to me, 

Tlie golden days of yore. 
They seem so sweet in memory, 

But they can come no more. 
Those golden days, those sunny days, 

When I could run and play, 
They came to me to bless me then. 

But did not come to stay. 

Tlio past, the past, the golden past, 

Its sports will come no moi"e. 
And hopes we freely cherished then 

Were gladly bright before. 
Tlie cheering songs of little birds. 

The spring time with its praise, 
\nd playmares that we love so much 

Were in those luippy days. 

'le past, the past, the cherished past, 

The past so dear to me, 
M> full of fond bright memory. 

And good things that were free. 
Of all that future has in store 

And is approaching fast, 
Will soon belong to memory, 

And will be with the past. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 436 

THE DYING STKANGER. 
Far away from friends and kindred, 

Far from loved ones and from home, 
Lived a poor and dying stranger 

In a land where strangers roam. 
Poor, deprived as if forsakened, 

In his chamber all alone, 
He was sick and he was dying, 

As a stranger and unknown. 

There it was I called to see him. 

Saw him dying, sick and low, 
There 1 heard his words of sorrow 

As he seemed to suffer so. 
There he talked of friends and loved ones. 

Kindred friends he loved so well, 
Talked of home, of sisters, brothers, 

As his lieart would seem to swell. 

It was sad to see him suffer, 

Hear him tell his sori-ows o'er, 
Say how much he loved his mother, 

But on earth would meet no more. 
Ho would act as if in trouble, 

He would turn as if in sleep. 
He would say that he was dying, 

And had tried but could not weep. 

Calm and sweet he sank forever. 

As his sunken eyes were closed, 
Sweetly, gently, truly, calmly. 

As for pleasant night's repose. 
Thus he taught this heart a lesson, 

As he turned to die in sleep. 
That the dying heart may suffer. 

But the dying never weep. 



436 ALLEN DOUMAN'S POEMS. 

THE FIRM EOCK. 
Oh, the rock that serves my footing 

Is the rock I love so well, 
Of its strength and its foundation, 

There's no mortal that can tell. 
If we cleave to it for safety 

It will shield us from the gale. 
Floods may come and beat around it, 

But its footing will not fail. 

Storms may beat upon its surface, 

Time may test it with decay, 
Age may test its strong appearance, 

But it will not pass away. 
Strong as Him who made it perfect, 

By his own unerring hand. 
With a view it should not crumble, 

But that it should always stand. 

Stand thro' time and stand thro' ages, 

For the soul that cannot die, 
It was made for man's own safety. 

We may choose it if we try. 
Rock of time and rock of ages 

Firmly stand for you and me, 
High above the ocean's billows. 

Out in broad eternity. 

It will stand thro' floods and tempest, 

Dashing tides of change's spray. 
Stand above fierce angry billows 

Through one bright eternal day. 
It is firm the rock of ages. 

In its nature it is pure. 
It will stand through time eternal, 

For its footing is secure. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 437 

THE FIRST Sm. 

When man was first created, 

And given earth his home, 
Was sill then found here waiting 

And high upon its throne? 
Did God in all His glory 

First make the laws of sin 
And place them here with mortals 

When hearts were weak within ? 

Was Satan always wicked ? 

Created as a foe, 
And leaving yonder Heaven 

Bring earth its sin and woe? 
The first sin was it Satan 

With murder in his breast, 
Was He its source and fountain, 

That good may have a test? 

Did God make all things perfect. 

And think that all was well. 
And safe beyond the power 

Oe Satan and his hell? 
Was man made for a purpose. 

And given mind and health? 
And did he wander wicked 

Thro' greed for gain and wealth ? 

The first sin had its sinner, 

A cause for every thing, 
A cause for good and evil, 

And all eft'ects they bring. 
And to remove the causes 

We may remove the sin, 
But may not move the tarnish 

That mars the soul within 



438 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS 

TRIALS FORESEEN. 
How could I bear to rue the Jieart 

I dearly loved of yore, 
And let her live far, far away, 

And meet with her no more. 
And think of when I had the chance 

To win her heart ^o kind, 
And sweetly claim her as my own, 

When she so true was mine. 

Oh could I bear to claim the heart 

Within her bosom free. 
If I should feel that love had died 

Once kindled there by me. 
For there it could not long remain, 

It could but shortly stay. 
Should there another heart attain 

And turn her heart av^^ay. 

How could I think when all alone, 

From one I love the best, 
That she unmindful then embraced 

Another to her breast. 
Oh yes, to love another heart. 

And sit upon his knee. 
And there in whispering words renew 

The stories told to me. 

How could I bear to dwell alone, 

And feel that hearts betray. 
And feel deserted most by one 

When she was far away. 
How could I have her heart return. 

Her heart once dear to me, 
And truly love her as in youth 

When youthful hearts are free. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

How could I wander on and on 

All friendless and alone, 
And feel neglected in niy heart, 

While from the heart's true own. 
Could I pursue my daily work, 

And do my duty best. 
And labor with a promise then, 

With pleasure in my breast? 

Could I endure a broken heart, 

Or think that life was free. 
And feel my heart was not content 

As it should always be? 
I know 'twould make this bosom sad, 

And hopes would all be vain, 
Should love be taken from this heart 

And ne'er return again. 

How could I wander o'er the plains. 

And feel that I was blest. 
And not contented when at night 

To take my evening's rest. 
How could I listen to the birds 

Then sing their happy lay. 
Or feel that spring had gladly come 

To bear my grief away. 

How could I live this life alone 

Thro' dreary winter's cold. 
And not secure a helping friend 

To help me when I'm old. 
What could I wish if this shall be 

My portion and my own, 
To lose all love within my breast 

And live this life alone. 



440 ALLEN DOliMAN'S POEMS. 

TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 
Life is such with all its changes. 

In the night and in the day, 
That its sorrows seem as shadows, 

Shedding all the light awaj. 
Light of true and faithful friendship, 

As true hearts that turn aside, 
And we find that few are with us, 

Ever faithful, true and tried. 

Help we need and need it often, 

When the weary heart is sad, 
Friendships come from honest doings 

Unto hearts to cheer them glad. 
Cheer poor hearts while at their duty. 

For some hearts are never free, 
God is watching us while living 

Luring for eternity. 

TIMES OF LIFE. 
Oh could I Jell what life has been. 

And tell it o'er and o'er, 
And tell how dear that much has been, 

But is to me no more. 
The times of life have varied been, 

And many good and bad, 
And many hardly times at all 

That's neither sweet nor sad. 

Oh yes, dark clouds have often come. 

And oft my heart has bled. 
And bitter too, the tears have been 

My eyes have often shed. 
Yet taking life as it may come. 

May teach and truly show. 
That life with many as with few, 

We reap the seed we sow. 



ALLEK DOKMAN'S POEMS. 441 

THE EVENING STAR DEBATE. 
I often have attended 

The evening star debate, 
And heard its exercises 

Thro' winter evenings late. 
A small and cosy cottage, 

The neigliborhood's delight, 
Just two miles north of Clinton, 

The evening stars shone bright 

Its been a benefactor, 

In school and high debate. 
And sought to train and thorough. 

For stations of the great. 
For many years a member, 

I've known its discipline. 
And formed associations. 

The heart holds dear within. 



THE flLGRIM'S MARCH. 
This life is but a pilgrim's march 

For one eternal shore. 
For that good country far away 

Where hearts return no more. 
The journey is a toilsome one, 

For pilgrim's weary feet. 
And hearts are tested unawares 

With bitter and with sweet. 

The pilgrim's march has hill and plain. 

Has changeful weather too. 
And sore defeats that test the heart, 

Till it is tried and true. 
The pilgrim's march is true with all, 

Who journey here below. 
Whatever hope, whatever aim, 

We on and on must go. 



442 ALLEN DOllMAN'S POEMS. 

THE MYTH OF LOVER'S LEAP. 
Tlie hidden mjth of lover's leap, 

I've heard from early youth, 
Its name thro' legion has come down, 

And some think its the truth. 
Two Indian lovers deep in love. 

Whose hopes were turned to grief, 
With broken hearts to seal their fate, 

They leaped from lover's leap. 

Whate'er its history has been. 

Thro' change and wear of time, 
I know not yet, but known fi-om youth. 

Its steeps I use to climb. 
Love's dying vow that gave its name, 

Gave vent to feelings deep. 
What love will do when love is true 

Will leap from lover's leap. 

THE FOUNTAIN HEART. 

The fountain heart, from whence may come 

The good and bad we do, 
Are first in heart and then in life 

The things that life pursue. 
Then we should guide the yielding heart, 

And cultivate it right. 
That we may be in this dark world 

A source of useful light. 

The heart may yield its kind of fruits 

More varied than a tree, 
Or as a fountain gushing forth 

Its living waters free. 
And if the fountain is disturbed 

Its stream will likewise flow, 
And if the heart within is dark. 

Its deeds will outward show. 



ALLEN DOIIMANS POEMS. 443 

THE JUDGMENT. 

The judgment is tlie reckoning 

Of every lunnan soul, 
Where gathers every spirit 

To hear its final goal. 
The court of all the ages, 

And all ihe wisdom known, 
Established by the power 

Of truth's eternal throne. 

But yet the greatest judgment 

That prompts the wildest look, 
Is that of shooting anvils 

To introduce my book. 
When clouds above are woolly. 

And stars seem moons to men, 
And boys shout for glory 

In a world without end. 



THE CLINTON WELL. 

Clinton's first artesian well 

Flows wondrous as a fountain, 
Its waters clear as ever flowed 

From spring or glacier mountain. 
At first a public hope was raised, " 

A prophesying wonder, 
Of what was treasured in the earth 

Beneath its surface under. 

But now it is a glad resort, 

A hope and rich discover. 
Where spacious buildings may invite, 

And friends may meet each other. 
In future, hearts will gather there 

For sport and healthful treasure. 
The hope of events and unknown. 

For love and rest and pleasure. 



Hi ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THOMAS GRAY. 

How true the life of Thomas Gray, 

A worthy man of fame, 
Who manly built while in this life 

A record and a name. 
Indeed he battled for the right, 

And labored like a man 
To make the world a better world 

With his devoted hand. 

He was a light, a shining light, 

A power in his day, 
An author who hath blest the world 

With blessings that will stay. 
And thus it is that other hearts 

Should labor for the right. 
And try to imitate the hearts 

Who make their labors bright. 

THE NEW YEAR. 

The new year opens proudly 

With many prospects bright, 
And leaves the old year gladly 

As morning leaves the night. 
The heart refreshed and hopeful 

Resolves to live anew, 
And starts with good intentions 

To live upright and true. 

The new years are the mornings 

Of years that cannot stay, 
As stations of a life time 

So bright along the way. 
And as the new year opens 

Like some refreshing morn, 
The year of life eternal 

Will likewise truly dawn. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 445 

THE CRUCIFIXION. 
It was the fate of Jesus, 

Tliat he was crucified, 
Despised, disowned, forsakened, 

'JMeath contempt Jesus died. 
Upon tho cross he suffered 

The agonies of pain, 
And yielded to conditions 

In God Almighty's name. 

Law knew no plea of mercy, 

But inconsistent sin 
SliiiU he deal now with spirits 

As the pe(jple did with him. 
It was a shameful murder, 

And was a sad betray, 
And still men crucify him, 

Bui in some other way. 

THE HARVEST. 
Each heart may have a harvest 

in view for future time, 
As life is constant sowing 

In both the shade and sliiue. 
It may be sheaves of merit, 

It may be health and life, 
Whatever be the harvest 

Is sure to cost a strife. 

Each heart should have a harvest, 

And try to safe secure 
Tiie many useful blessings 

Life has for rich and poor. 
The deeds that we are doing. 

Whatever life may sow, 
Is sure to bring a harvest, 

When this life is no more. 



446 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THE EIGHT WAY. 

The right way is the wisest way 

Tliat leads safe unto lite, 
And wrong way is the surest way 

That leads to grief and sti-ife. 
The honest heart, however frail. 

May live the true, right way, 
While boasting hearts or chimoring throng 

May thoughtless go astray. 

The right way is the highest way 

That mortal hearts may live, 
And those who tread it best may know 

What right ways have to give. 
The right way is the safest way, 

Because its way is right, 
And its reward is peace and rest 

And home eternal bright. 

THE LONELY LANE. 

The lonely lane that once was bright 

Seems dark and dreary now. 
Where cupid tried with hope's delight, 

But lost its cherished vow. 
Oh, dark and dismal is the change, 

Since hope has been removed, 
No hope within the lane of sin, 

No hope to be improved. 

Oh, sad and lonely is the lane, 

And haunted with alarm, 
The praise of music and of cheer. 

Has fled and left no charm. 
The lonely lane, the dismal lane. 

The lane of gloom and dread, 
Of disappointment and of grief 

Is lane some heart has tread. 



ALLEN DORIMAN'S POEMS. 447 

TURN BACK. 

Turn back to-niglit, turn back with me, 

Far back in youth's bright praise, 
And see what hearts may fondly see 

In youth's bright sunny days. 
Turn back in fancy just to-night, 

With honest lieart with within, 
And view tlie past with careful search. 

And see what life has been. 

Turn back in fancy and review 

The sunny times of youtli, 
Don't Jet the present now absorb 

The merits of life's truth. 
The past is full of treasures rare, 

If we could only view, 
The many good things of the past, 

That life has known so true. 



THE DEAD. 

The dead, the dead, unnumbered dead, 

Now I eternity, 
Oh, could they rise in one vast throng 

How many they wouhl be. 
But they have lived as now we live, 

And known the cares (»f eartii, 
But they have lost companion's ties. 

With this their land of birth. 

The dead, like forest leaves, are in 

Oblivion's 'prisoned home. 
Created spirits for some plan, 

Hope predicts, but unknown. 
Oh soon we will be with the dead, 

And where we take nor give, 
Its all with us and what we do. 

That's proof that we have lived. 



448 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THE EBB OF HOPE. 
Hope's bnilt upon desire, 

And expectation too, 
And when they are united 

They have the heart act true. 
When expectations leave us. 

And when desires stay, 
Is when bright hopes arc ebbing, 

And from the lieart away. 

Oh when bright liopcs ai-e leaving 

As hopes so often do. 
The heart should then take courage 

And other hopes pursue. 
Yet life however favoied. 

And heart however gay, 
Is mindful of some sorrow 

To see hope ebb awaj', 

THE FOUNTAIN. 

You see yon fountain ilowing, 

Its waters crystal clear. 
And sending forth its blessings 

Of happiness and cheer. 
What hope, what health, what lessons, 

That fountain has and free, 
For those who seek its treasures, 

And would its beauties see. 

The fountain of all fountains, 

The fount of life and love. 
Must likewise flow in Heaven 

For angels there above. 
And thus as is the fountain. 

The stream will likewise be, 
And bear ils sin and goodness 

On out into the sea. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 449 

THOUGHTS PRESERVED. 

The varied thouglits we have in life, 

And tliose tliat cheer us best, 
Are sometimes proper to preserve 

With hope life may be blest. 
Thoughts leave ns as the seasons come, 

Some leave and come no more, 
Yet in some still recess of life 

There are sweet thoughts of yore. 

Sweet thoughts preserved may bring us 

And at some times of need, [cheer, 
For when they come may sweetly bring 

The thouglits of some good deed. 
Sweet thoughts preserved, bright thoughts 

May live and ne'er get old, [preserved 
When life is done, in life to come 

Sweet thoughts may cheer the soul. 

THE STATIONLESS JOURNEY. 

When life gets old and feeble, 

As lives of many do. 
The lieart may oft look backward 

At wiiat it may review. 
Look back upon its journey, 

And see no stations bright, 
No deeds of love and kindness. 

No stops that glow with light. 

This life is but a journey. 

And should have stations fair, 
A journey that is final 

Beyond this world of care. 
So let us build up stations 

Of worth, of love and right, 
That when we may look backward 

They'll glow with golden light. 



450 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

TIME AND TEARS. 
Time and tears adhere together, 

As they drift back in the past, 
Back into the lost forever, 

Seeming slow but yet so fast. 
Life has hope and life has pleasure, 

Mingled here with grief and fears, 
Life unheeded with its treasures 

Constant drifts with time and tears. 

Time and tears, and time and sorrow 

Blend together as they move, 
Yet some hope of glad to-morrow 

May some blessing sweetly prove. 
Oh liow much of life its portion, 

As is seen thro' distant years. 
Drifting onward as in motion 

That belongs to time and tears. 

THE LADDER OF FAME. 
The ladder of fame is slim and high, 

For those who seek to climb 
Will find some feet above that kick 

And fists that thump behind. 
But he who struggles on and up 

May reach the glowing height, 
And as a victor justly show 

Some triumph for the right. 

The ladder of fame extends above 

The common stage of men, 
Yet common hearts that ladder props, 

It needs them as a friend. 
And he whose fortune is to climb 

Above the common sphere, 
Should careful teach the good and rigli 

To those who praise them dear. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 451 

THOSE TIMES HAVE PASSED. 

Those times have passed, those times are 

Those sacred times of jore, [gone, 

Yes, they have passed, untimely passed, 

And they will come no more. 
Yes, they have passed forever novf, 

And they will not return, 
Those happy days, those pleasant days 

For which the heart may yearn. 

Yes, they have passed, forever passed. 

But yet we love to tell 
Of friends that once were dear to us, 

We still remember well. 
We love those times, those sacred times, 

We now in fancy see, 
Those pleasant times, those times of yore 

When youth was bright and free. 

Those times have passed and life has 
changed. 

Those times they could not last, 
But yet we love those cherished times. 

Those good times of the past. 
We love them for their treasured worth. 

Their pleasure and their praise, 
And hopes that once belong to them 

Come yet in golden days. 

Those times have passed, those sacred 
times, 

Those times of youth and glee, [light, 
When hopes were bright and cares were 

And all around was free. 
Yes, they have passed, O sadly passed, 

Those happy times of yore, 
And though the heart may yearn for them 

Those times will come no more. 



452 ALLIEN DOltMAN'S POEMS. 

THIS WORLD OF CARES. 
This world of cares, this woi'ld of toil, 

This world of grief and pain, 
This world of trouble and of woe, 

This world of sin and blame. 
This world of burden and of grief. 

This world of busy trade. 
This world of sorrow and of care, 

This world of loss and fade. 

This world, this world, this busy world, 

Tiiis weary world of care 
Must labor for the right to live, 

And has no time to spare. 
We sow, we reaj). we toil, we sleep, 

As years go swiftly by. 
And hearts that sow must ti-uly know 

The cares of those who try. 

This world of care, this world of pain. 

This world of burdens great, 
May press the heart till it would fail 

Beneath some heavy weight. 
And though we rise or tho' we fall, 

Life's best has toil and pain. 
We have our woes and have our cares, 

And mere survive in name. 



THE SOUL'S FLIGHT. 

The soul released and freed from earth 

Prepares to take its flight. 
And spreads its pinions as it starts 

For faith's eternal light. 
Fair angels guides it on the way, 

Companion sweet commune, 
And keep no thought of earth's dull care, 

Or where it left the tomb. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 453 

THE GIRL HE LOVED. 

He met the girl his heart had ioved, 

As if by chance they met, 
She was the girl he loved of yore, 

And could not well forget. 
True love with each had served its part, 

Had loved each other well, 
And love was cherished in their hearts 

As actions tried to tell. 

But life liad changed, O sadly ciianged, 

Love could not claim its own, 
Yet sad with each they felt how strange, 

Love could not love disown. 
How strange the secrets of true love 

The angels know above, 
And ends this theme as it began, 

He met the girl he loved. 

THE SECOND WORD. 

The Second word, tho' good or bad, 

Is what may move the heart. 
And thus its bad, impure and sad, 

May cause some sin to start. 
The first indeed would sow no seed 

If it could not agree, 
With second heart or second word 

To act in unity. 

The serpent tongue, the slandering tongue, 

That hastens much to tell, 
May scatter shame on some good name, 

The shame of blackest hell. 
Ves, make it black with blackened hearts, 

Who equal are to blame, 
Lecause they hear with eager cheer 

The sinful tales of shame. 



454 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

THE BARK THAT NEVER AN- 
CHORS. 
The bark that never anchors, 

And never comes to shore, 
Can never be unloaded 

Or take into its store. 
It cannot stem the billows. 

And cannot lasting be, 
And can't receive repairings 

While always out at sea. 

Its like a train unloaded 

That moves upon the rail, 
And never stops at stations, 

Eventually will fail. 
Without an aim or purpose. 

Without a hope within. 
The life that never anchors, 

Its course is that of sin. 



THE EARNEST FOE. 

The earnest foe that firmly stands 

And bravely dares to fight, 
May prompt the heart in its defense 

To use its strength and might. 
Most every heart has earnest foes, 

It may be lurking thief, 
It may be soldiers clad in war. 

It may be pain or grief. 

Life has its foes in many ways, 

And everything that grows, 
The beast of prey and birds so gay, 

All have their earnest foes. 
So thus the heart should constant watch 

Its foes that never cease, 
As constant guarding is the price 

Of liberty and peace. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. i55 

THE TOMB OF MY MOTHER. 

The tomb of my dear mother 

I often go to see, 
I know it from all others, 

For it is dear to me, 
I see her now no longer, 

Her deeds of gentle cheer, 
And when I'm where she's buried 

I would be close to her. 

I feel I am a stranger, 

And feel I am alone. 
But at her grave is comfort, 

It seems my nearest home. 
Where e'er I go or wander. 

My thoughts are fixed on her, 
The place where she is sleeping, 

Tlie grav^e of mother dear. 

My mother, O my mother, 

I never shall forget, 
Her deeds of love and kindness 

Are constant with me yet. 
She was my friend in sorrow, 

And was my help in need, 
And acted as a mother 

In every friendly deed. 

But now she is with spirits. 

Away from earthly gloom, 
And in a world immortal 

She entered thro' the tomb. 
And thns when I am saddest, 

I would my mother see, 
I feel ril meet and know her 

Out in eternity. 



456 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

TROUBLE. 
Yes, trouble is tlie artful sting 

Of some vain, sinful deed, 
And as a thorn beneath the rose 

May caution to take heed. 
Whatever troubles us in life, 

Whatever seems unkind, 
May prove some blessing in disguise, 

Far reaching in design. 

THE SPIRIT'S WILL. 

The spirits once were mortals. 

In world that gave them birth. 
And under circumstances 

Existed here on earth. 
While here they lived as mortals, 

Conditions made them so, 
And how we'll live when spirits, 

We soon shall better know. 

Then wduit is there so frightful 

About this life if true, 
That leaves this mortal coil 

To take another new. 
'Tis hope that fondly tells us 

That life shall sweetly live 
In image of its Maker, 

That His conditions give. 

THE MOVING BARK. 
Oh yes, it is the moving bark, 

Tliat's snagged beneath its deck, 
And true it is the moving train 

That's subject to a wreck. 
And thus it is with hearts that move, 

Are snagged with envy's snare. 
And subject unto accidents 

That often bring despair. 



ALLEN DORIMAN'S POEMS. 457 

THE WEAE OF TIME. 
The wear of time will wear away 

Life's sad and dullest care, 
And cool the heart of its revenge, 

And all the woes we bear. 
The hidden secrets of the heart, 

The crime of darkest night, 
The wear of time reveals the truth. 

And brings it to the light. 

No heart can sinirn the wear of time, 

However true and tried. 
Life has nocIaim.no strength, no wealth 

That can impede its tide. 
The wear of time wnll surely wear 

The brightest sun that shines, 
Yet leaves no trace of its efface 

On tilings that arc divine. 



THE BATTLE IN HEAVEN. 
There was a war in Heaven, 

Between the right and wrong, 
Against the great Jehovah 

By Satan and his throng. 
It seems as if the angels. 

Created as they were. 
Had trials and temptations 

The same as \\»e have here. 

And those of right were pensioned. 

And those of wrong they fell. 
With Satan as their leader 

Were banished down to hell. 
And thus created angels 

They differed in belief, 
In rulings and religion. 

And fought for a relief. 



458 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

THOMAS HOOD. 

Thomas Hood, yes, TIiouuis Hood, 

A man of wit and song, 
He lived this life to do the good 

And overcome tlie wrong. 
He was a light for truth and right, 

A genius of his day, 
A star that glows out in the night. 

And will not pass away. 

THE POET VIRGIL. 

The stars that shine the brightest 

Out in the darkest sky. 
Are like the men of merit 

Who wisely build up high. 
And thus the poet Virgil, 

An ancient star of light, 
Ranked high with Roman authors, 

With those whose names are bright. 

The stars that form in clusters 

We see the light they shed, 
Some shine more bright than others, 

So with the lives of men. 
It seems to be the fortune 

Of some men to be great. 
And others good and useful. 

And others doomSd to fate. 



THE RACE. 
The race that every heart may run 

Is o'er some rugged place. 
And judges who would judge them right 

Term them the human race. 
The human race some fortunes chase, 

And some may lose or gain, 
But who would bet on human i-ace. 

When odds were 'gainst the same. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 459 

THE CONVICTED. 

The convicted, the convicted, 

Sentenced to a fatal doom, 
No appeal to throne of mercy, 

No evading of the tomb. 
Without hope the poorest living, 

The convicted heart must be, 
On the thread of life's conditions, 

Vain would hope for liberty. 

THE MIND. 
The mind is substance of the soul. 

It must be, and if true 
That life is life without this coil. 

If thus we may construe. 
Why not, we think and see and live 

Beyond this mortal sphere. 
And in a life that knows no strife. 

With conscience just as clear.. 

All minds are not immortal minds. 

At least we reckon so, 
The birds and beast have thinking minds, 

If souls we do not know. 
The wonders of the busy world 

Are products of the mind. 
And He who's Maker of all life 

Plans wonderful divine. 



THE VAST BEYOND. 

The great beyond, the vast beyond 

Of future time to come. 
Is reckoned by eventful past, 

As time on ages run. 
How high, how deep, how wide, how far. 

The vast beyond must be. 
That far extends in its expanse 

Out in eternity. 



460 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEiMS. 

THE MOVING CLOUD. 

The moving cloud, the floating cloud, 

So high on summer day, 
Is emblem true of transient tilings, 

Of life that pass away. 
The fleecy cloud, the changing cloud 

That floats so graceful on, 
And moves as one great sheet of light 

Until its passed and gone. 

The moving cloud, the moving cloud, 

Moves as a river flows, 
Or constant as the tide of time 

Moves where no scholar knows. 
Thus changing, moving is this life, 

And transient as a day. 
Or as the unsubstantial cloud 

We live and pass away. 

THERE IS A HOPE. 
There is a hope in life's defeats 

As long as there is life. 
The heart it rallies its beliefs 

In every stage of strife. 
The heart may struggle right or wrong 

In hope to over come, 
And meet its foe, however strong. 

O'er something it has done. 

There is a hope, there is a hope 

Within the heart is found, 
And all the foes that life may cope 

May never keep it down. 
There is a hope when life is done 

Beyond this transient life. 
And in a better world to come 

There's hope that knows no strife. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

THE UPPER CRUST. 

How hard it is for any one 

In this coniiicting life, 
To work up through the upper crust 

Without a desperate strife. 
The upper crust is hard to break 

When one is underneath, 
May darkly stay above the head 

With contempt's unbelief. 

And thus it is most awful hard 

For any one to rise, 
And work his way up in the world 

Against some rooster flies. 
If one has help and help he needs 

May have an easy time, 
But if the foe is fierce and strong 

Life's hills are hard to climb. 



THOUGHTLESS DESIRES. 

The heart is often thoughtless 

In hope of something new, 
A longing that is restless 

For what it may pursue. 
How vain are thoughtless wishes, 

That prompt the heart to try, 
And often finds so truly 

That life cannot supply. 

THEY LIVE AS WE. 
They live as we shall surely live, 

The spirits of the free. 
If spirits live they surely live 

Out in eternity. 
If spirits live they sure would come 

And tell us what they know, 
And settle once forever true 

The place where we shall go. 



46^ ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

TKUE LOVE. 
True love is far from running smooth, 

But yet we call it true, 
Because it acts so awful nice 

As only such will do. 
True love is earnest and sincere, 

May love both friend and foe, 
Aud freely seek for one it loves 

Some favor to bestow. 

True love is but a mother's love, 

To love an erring son, 
And shield him with her tears and life, 

And hope that good may come. 
The Savior's love we call it true, 

His heart it loved the best, 
He loved His foes and friends alike, 

And died that they be blest. 

THAT GIRL SO TRUE. 

That girl so true, that girl so fair. 

She loves me all the while, 
I love to see her act so true. 

And see her lovely smile. 
She walks with me, she talks with me, 

And sweet her eyes of blue, 
And I have reasons to believe 

Her heart within is true. 

That girl so true, that girl so sweet, 

Is lovely as can be. 
And every time I think of her, 

I think she thinks of me. 
That girl, that girl, that lovely girl, 

With pretty charms so new, 
And its a pleasure all the while 

To see her act so true. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 463 

TREASURED YOUTH. 

Sweet treasured youth, sweet treasured past 

Of childhood's distant day, 
As memory has treasured much 

Of things that pass away. 
Yes, when we look far back in life, 

In youth its sports and games, 
While youth was bright it had its night, 

And had its joys and pains. 

But now those joys have passed away, 

And golden youth has fled, 
And roses that were once so bright 

Have faded and are dead. 
The mossy hills we use to climb, 

Far up the narrow way, 
^prospecting for what we may find 

To bring at close of day. 

Along youth's bright and sunny path 

We gave each other chase, 
And sought with playmates in our sports 

See who would win the race. 
But from those early sports of youth 

Life wandered like a dream. 
And found beyond those sunny hills 

Life was not what it seemed. 

And just beyond those sunny hills. 

Life's wandering steps declined, 
And many cares and griefs were found 

To weight the weary mind. 
But may we long remember well, 

And speak with pride and truth 
Of what we were and what we knew. 

And what we loved in vouth. 



464 ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 

TRUE WE PAKT. 

How sad we part, but fare-thee-well, 

For we must part to-night, 
But let us think of each as true 

As if we were in sight. 
The best of friends indeed must part, 

We've known each other long. 
And witnessed sports far back in youth, 

And cherished them in song. 

How sad it is that we must part, 

How sad we cannot stay, 
How sad that we must cast our lots 

From each so far away. 
But in such partings there is hope, 

A hope beyond the night, 
A hope to see each morning sun 

Shine just as clear and bright. 

But while we part and live so far, 

We'll hope to meet again 
In other days and other times, 

And both be better then. 
We'll hope to meet in other years 

As parting friends may do. 
And hope C(mditions may be changed 

To live content and true. 

True we must part, so fare-thee well, 

As hearts may meet no more. 
And life may change, and O how strange, 

May find its dream is o'er. 
But let us hope to meet again. 

As after day comes night, 
And after darkness all is o'er. 

Again comes morning bright. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 466 

TIED IN TRACES. 
In the traces, in the traces, 

Love is tied forever now. 
Has surrendered sweetly, cheerful, 

All she promised in her vow. 
Tied in traces, tied in traces, 

Love is harnessed up for life, 
She lias started with her husband, 

He has started with his wife. 

Long they loved each other fondly. 

Treasured hopes they had in store, 
Cherished fondly and remembered 

In the pleasant dreams of yore. 
Long througli many days of labor, 

Long through many thoughts of pain, 
Long through sorrow, grief and sadness. 

Love has ItiiDored not in vain. 



UNLOADED. 

'Twas at a church convention, 

The preachers all came in, 
As soldiers true of Canaan 

Were making war on sin. 
The big guns and the little 

Came loaded full of grit. 
And at the great convention 

Unloaded all their wit. 

Some style was in the order, 

"With ping hats slick and high. 
And broadcloth round the person 

A wanting chicken pie. 
Yes, loaded or unloaded, 

Conventions come and go, 
While sinners am a watchin' 

Their merit and their show. 



466 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

UNCLE JESSIE'S DREAM. 
Now Undo Jessie dreamed a dream, 

And dreamed it clear and free, 
It was an awful funny dream, 

It was about a she. 
He thought he saw some pretty charms, 

And Jessie thought them sweet, 
And lealized that such a theme 

Was pleasant and complete. 

Ho thought he loved a pretty girl 

Who loved him in return, 
And when he got the question off 

He thought her face did burn. 
He caught his maiden for some love 

As in a happy cheer, 
And woke to see at his surprise 

She was a glass of beer. 

UNKIND. 

I sought a help of one whose wealth 

Were treasures great in store, 
He turned to me his unkind heart 

And rent my bosom sore. 
He turned me off with unkind words, 

Their weight my bosom felt, 
As if it was an awful crime 

To ask a man for help. 

Who is my guide in this lone world 

When neighbors are unkind, 
Have I the right to do the right, 

That I may blessings find. 
We may of lich expect too much 

In credit for our needs. 
Yet God alone will truly judge 

Of kind or unkind deeds. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POBMg. 467 

UNDYING LOVE. 

Undying as the days are long, 

Undying love will stay, 
And strengthen as the years go by 

In love's delighted way. 
How earnest do the hearts unite, 

How faithful do they live, 
And linger at the shrine of Jove 

For wliat love has to give. 

Undying and true fervent love. 

They say will never die, 
"With souls that linger at its fount. 

And dwell in peace on high. 
Eternal love, undying love, 

The love that loves the best, 
Has ever been and yet shall be. 

That lovers may be blest. 

VIRTUE. 

Down in the heart of woman 

The gem of virtue lives. 
And treasures for her portion 

The highest life can give. 
When tender chords are 'wakened 

Down deep within the soul, 
Her fainting heart has struggled 

Through many a test untold. 

It rarely would be yielded 

Or suflPered to depart, 
If first it was not entered 

Through love within her heart. 
Oh, many a wrecked and ruined 

Have sunk down into hell, 
Because of love's beti-ayer, 

Which only God can tell. 



468 ALLEN DORMaN'S POEmS. 

VAIN TIES OF HEAKT. 

The past has many treasures rare 

As memory may see, 
The faces of the friends I've known 

When early youth was free. 
Oh yes, they all are sacred now 

In memory and song, 
But yet that list of feeble ties 

Is not so very long. 

Some friendly hearts, some gentle hearts, 

Some hearts that life has known. 
Have lost the charms they once possessed 

Since older we have grown. 
But yet their names are dear to me, 

Their hearts are sacred too, 
But why it is I cannot tell 

Their hearts seem so untrue. 

Their features now have faded much, 

Their gladness once so free, 
Tho' memory in solitude 

Oft brings them back to me. 
Oh yes, those kind and friendly hearts, 

When friendly looks were made, 
Their deeds will live in memory 

When charms and beauty fade. 

Some hearts I knew in early youth. 

Their friendships could not stay, 
And proved the verdict that all ties 

In life must pass away. 
So life should work for what is right, 

Sow truth its golden seeds, 
Men may forget your pretty looks 

But ne'er forget your deeds. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 469 

YAIN LOYERS. 

Vain lovers are as bubbles brief, 

Their wooiiigs will not stay, 
Because vain love is never right, 

It leads true love astray. 
Vain love will surely solve itself, 

As most loves always do, 
Without foundation or support, 

Vain love will not be true. 

Its sure with him whose heart is vam, 

The truth will come about, 
With her he has been going with, 

And wore his welcome out. 
The truth will come, will sui-ely come. 

And others will believe 
Of him or her whose courted wrong. 

Or otherwise deceived. 

So pretty girls be up on time, 

And bring about the vow. 
If men don't know what business means. 

Just try and show them how. 
For men are sometimes useful things, 

If you will keep them right, 
They'll never say they could have got. 

But get with all their might. 

Yes, love them true and love them right. 

Don't let them come too long. 
Don't let them stay your time away. 

For something may go wrong. 
If they don't get at business right. 

And only come for fun. 
Be on the watch, be on the watch. 

And have another come. 



470 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

VEXATIONS. 

Some hearts ^et aggravated 

At every little thing, 
And often speak of others 

In M^ords that hurt or sting. 
Life has no higher purpose 

Than sowing seeds of light, 
And sure when hearts are ugly 

Is when within is night. 

VAIN LOVE. 
Vain love it has its pierciiig darts, 

Its been my greatest foe, 
Its broke my heart and crushed me down, 

And dealt its fatal blow. 
Vain love I'll rue and live again, 

Another love I'll win. 
And at its fountain sweetly live, 

Away from vain love's sin. 

VICTOR HUGO. 

Oh, see the name of Hugo, 

As a burning sun, 
Brightening up the firmament 

Of all time to come. 
He as a mighty chieftain 

Labored all he could, 
For the right with all his might, 

In a field of good. 

The name of Victor Hugo, 

It shall never die. 
Because he labored faithful 

To build all others high. 
He helped the world and blest it 

With his mind and pen, 
Thus it is that he shall live 

In the hearts of men. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 471 

'WAKENED MEMORIES. 
The thought is sad when memory 

Comes crowding up iu sight, 
And brings to mind sweet pleasures 

That once appeared so bright. 
Yes, when the heart is lonely, 

Such thoughts may often coma, 
And 'waken in our knowledge 

Something we've said or done. 

Some hope the heart has cherished, 

Some friend the heart has known, 
Some deed of love and kindness. 

Within our nature sown. 
There is a God in nature, 

And in our nature too, 
Who watches and who treasures 

The good and bad we do. 

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 

William Shakespeare, William Sliakes- 

A mighty man of earth, [peare, 

A man among the useful men 

Of literature and worth. 
His name will shine as one bright star, 

The brightest of mankind, 
That luminates with golden light 

The firmament of time. 

His works are more than jewels rare, 

Or sapphire diamonds bright. 
Or gold and silver to the world 

Are true his thoughts of light. 
Immortal name, immortal one. 

Of thinking men the best, 
Who built a model in this life. 

That mankind may be blest. 



472 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEM^. 

WILLIAM BLACKSTONE. 

The name of William Blackstoiie 

Is known most everywhere, 
By every legal student 

Who seeks to well prepare. 
He is the first foundation 

On which so many build 
Their legal occupations, 

And brilliantly fulfil. 

And thus we all should labor, 

As other hearts have done, 
And wisely build up blessings 

To bless some other ones. 
Oh, yes, the world it needs us 

To scatter seeds of light. 
And lead the weak and weary 

In paths of peace and right. 

WHY ENVY ME. 

Why envy me, why envy me. 

And try to cast me down, 
Why wish of me some cruel fate, 

Some hurt or bleeding wound. 
What hope have I that you should blast. 

What planned engravings tine, 
What book I'm writing that will stay, 

Oblivion and time. 

Oh, could you know what they have cost, 

What sad and earnest prayers, 
What broken heart and midnight toil, 

And desolated cares. 
To crush me now, you crush my book, 

Why should you have me fall, 
The hearts we sometimes envy most 

We do not know it all. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 4VS 

WORLDLY WASTE. 

Worldly waste and worldly wear 

Have we here 'mid toil and care, 
In the hope of worldly gain 

Oft we suffer loss and pain. 
And in times of thoughtless haste 

Often follows worldly waste, 
Yet such waste may never be 

Out in broad eternity. 

WILLIAM PITT. 
Yon talk of men and useful men. 

And men of solid wit, 
Such men are few who rank indeed 

With Mr. William Pitt. 
He served a part in this dark world. 

And built a lofty name, 
That other men who try to live 

May likewise do the same. 

WINTERS OF LIFE. 

Life's hardly life that does not know 

Some toil and care and strife. 
And known the storms that often come 

In winter days of life. 
As far in youth as conscience goes. 

The winters use to come, 
The ice and snow were same as now, 

Beneath a winter's sun. 

In looking back thro' winter days 

One side of life is seen. 
The other side is summer days 

With fields and forests green. 
As winters of the past have been. 

So winters yet shall come, 
Till time shall break the laws that reign, 

And winter days are done. 



iU ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

WHEKE I WAS BORN. 
Where I was born or the part of land, 
That you all may know or understand, 
Near Northeast part of Southeast plat, 
And Southeast fourth or tlie old home site. 
In section seven and in west Field's Creek, 
Township forty, two Range, twenty -six, 
Henry County, year tifty-seven, 
State of Missouri, in log cabin. 

WONDERS. 

Wonders, wonders, mighty wonders, 

Are upon the earth. 
Furious wonders, lightning thunders, 

Wonders of some worth. 
Great colossals, startling, moving, 

Wonders yet untold, 
Wonders that the wise are proving, 

Wonders of the soul. 



WALTER SCOTT. 

The worthy name of Walter Scott 

Is held in high esteem, 
Because he labored for the world, 

Its merits to redeem. 
He labored faithful while he lived, 

And labored for the right, 
And built up in the hearts of men 

A public claim of light. 

And thus it is we all should live, 

And do life's duty best, 
And do the right with all our might 

That others may be blest. 
Each has a duty to perform, 

A duty that we owe, 
And God will have life in the end 

To harvest what we sow. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 475 

WITHOUT GRA7ES. 

The birds that sing so gay and free 

Are lost when they are dead, 
And flowers when they cease to bloom 

Are worthless where we tread. 
And many soldiers of this life 

Are made dependant slaves, 
And left unnoticed when they die, 

And some are without graves. 

Poor, wretched, hated and despised, 

May be the pilgrim's fate. 
And public tides of sympathy 

May shun the good and great. 
But God the searcher of all hearts, 

Who seeks the soul to save, 
Will give the heart its due reward, 

Regardless of its grave. 

WEAPONS OF WARFARE. 
Life is a war, a pilgrim's war, 

That has some foe to meet, 
And if not ready for the test 

May feel some sad defeat. 
The war is constant all thro' life, 

The foe is lurking nigh. 
And trying is the strict command 

That life's to live or die. 

The kind of weapons that we bear, 

Or use in times of need. 
Are varied as the kinds of foe 

We have to fight or heed. 
If we must light, then dare to fight, 

Use weapons as a friend, 
The heart its weapons should be those 

Qu which it may depend, 



476 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

WINTER DAYS. 

The winter days, the stormy days, 

That bring the snow and sleet, 
They often bring- the northern winds 

And watch of wild deer beat. 
The drifts of snow so clean and white 

Reflecting the sun's rays, 
The frozen earth, the chilly gales, 

All come in winter days. 

The winter days they came in youth, 

And came in olden times. 
And winter days will ever come 

With change of winter climes. 
And God has made it wisely thus 

That we may useful live, 
And reap the blessings of this life 

That winters have to give. 

WHEN HE'S DOWN. 
.Yes, man is partial to his sex. 

Oft sees him as a foe, 
And often meets him as in war, 

And gives him pain and woe. 
With beast heart in many ways, 

He's gave his neighbor wound, 
And his savage thirst for blood 

Has shot him while he's down. 

Don't, neighbor, pray don't serve him so, 

But help him when you can. 
Don't stab liim in his agonies. 

He is your brother man. 
We all are pilgrims on the earth. 

Should dress our brother's wound. 
And truly help him when in need 

When ever he is down. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. ilt 

WRONG LOYE. 

Now love may have its troubles, 

As careless loving brings, 
Yet loving is a business 

As much as anything. 
And lovers may get angry, 

And cease to sing love's song, 
And each show by their actions 

That something must be wrong. 

May leave each other angry. 

And vow they will not stay 
Until their rights are righted, 

And in the j^roper way. 
Wrong loving and wrong living 

Is very wrong in life, 
For where true love is wanting 

Is sure to lead to strife. 



WHEN WE WERE YOUNG. 
When we were young, when we were young 

With eager playmates gay, 
With faces bright and bosoms fresh. 

Was when we used to play. 
How true the past is dear to us. 

And sweet the songs we've sung, 
And many good times we have known, 

Oh yes, when we were young. 

When we were young, when we were young, 

In .real life and name. 
We use to love our evening sports 

When evenings gladly came. 
But now it is that we must live, 

And reap from what may come, 
Yet we may long remember well 

The days when we were young. 



478 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

WASTED YOUTH. 

I often think of wasted joiitl), 

Of wasted days and time. 
When I was weak and needed help, 

And others were unkind. 
It was my lot to live and mourn, 

Was troubled every day, 
When youth its bright and cherished hopes 

Were wasting fast away. 

Yes, I was sad and troubled then, 

My heart was weak and worn, 
It was the sin of other hearts 

That caused my heart to mourn. 
Oh, how it was, how sad it was, 

To feel such aching pain. 
With broken heart and blasted hopes 

Much of my youth was vain. 

Oh wasted days, yes, wasted days. 

Those sunny days so bright, 
Down in the soul was dark and cold, 

Yet should have been delight. 
IVe tried to throw my troubles off, 

And rue them all away. 
And bid my heart to live again. 

And seek a brighter day. 

Those days, those days, those wasted days, 

Those perils of regret, 
Where life has seen its sun serene 

So oft in trouble set. 
But wasted days and wasted youth 

May prove a useful test. 
And have old age its closing stage 

To dwell in peace and rest. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 479 

WOMEN WARKIOKS. 

As I was passing by a house 

One evening, late at night, 
1 heard a racket in a house. 

It was a woman fight. 
1 heard them call each other names, 

While I was in the street, 
And was surprised to hear them talk 

Some words I won't repeat. 

Oh. yes, I heard a fearful rip, 

A crash and then a groan, 
A lash as if a center pop 

That aimed to hurt the bone. 
A tumble, i-umble and a pop, 

Down came the window blind, 
Then I couid see and plainly see 

A sure and certain sign. 

Their hands so fair were pulling hair 

And tumbling round and o'er, 
I bless my stars I never saw 

A woman fight before. 
They fought like mad and frantic cats, 

It was a jealous fight. 
For I could see them pull and jerk. 

And scream with all their might. 

No wonder now that men are bad, 

And often raise a row, 
And swear and tear up generally 

When women show them how. 
Yes, sometimes men may go to war. 

And battle for their rights, 
But hardly act like women do 

When at their jealous fights. 



480 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMg. 

WHEN SHE CAME TO M% 
Maiden fair aiKJ maiden lovely 

She has much in yonth to lend^ 
And her heart when proper guided 

May reclaim a fallen friend. 
It was in the days departed, 

When her youth was bright and free, 
I was weak and worn and weary, 

When she gladly came to me. 

I was sad, my heart was bleeding, 

I was needing of a friend, 
I was sick, my heart was broken, 

And its break I could not mend. 
I was sighing in my troubles 

For some hope I wished to see, 
I was sinking in my sorrows 

When she kindly came to me. 

Yes, fair maiden, she was friendly, 

Slie was kind and she was true. 
And her heart may bo remembered 

By the kindness she may do. 
In her youth her heart was friendly. 

Kind and gentle as could be. 
In her youth her love was sacred, 

And was when she came to me. 

She has taught this heart a lesson 

Of good things that it may do, 
And of thoughts that it may scatter 

Willi the hearts that would be true. 
In this life we all are pilgrims, 

Maiciiing for eternity, ' 
While l"ni marching I'll remember. 

Yes, the time she came to me. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 481 

WHY SHOULD I WEEP? 

Why should I weep, why should I weep, 

For one I cannot see, 
When she has turned her heart away, 

And will not care for nie? 
Why should I weep or once repent, 

Or let my heart repine, 
She wills her heart in wliat she would, 

This heart is truly miiic. 

What have I now that I would give 

To claim her heart again, 
If love was not supplanted there 

'Twas best she acted vain. 
Why should I weep, why should I mourn 

For what is naught to nie, 
Or even let my heart repine. 

Its best that I am free. 

Is there no other heart to claim 

In this large world so wide. 
Another heart that will be true, 

In which I may confide? 
Is there but one and only one, 

This heart may truly claim. 
If such be true, love is not love. 

Or has another name. 

Why should I weep o'er what is lost, 
_ Or even yet be sad, 
When reason tells me it is best 

With me I should be glad. 
No, I will not submit to mourn, 

I'll conquer if I can, 
And show the world that I am yet 

An independent man. 



482 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

WARNINGS OF DOOM. 

The thoughtful heart that goes thro' life, 

Sees wainiiigs of its doom, 
Inscribed upon the monuments 

Of every noticed tomb. 
The fading grass, the falling leaf, 

The workings of decay, 
Are warnings of approaching death, 

That life must pass away. 

The moving cloud, the setting sun. 

The changes cf the sky. 
Are warnings true and go to teach 

That life is doomed to die. 
The death of friends so dear to us 

May nil the heart with gloom, 
Yet hope would tell us that we live 

Beyond death's certain doom. 

WISDOM. 

Oh, deep are the ways of wisdom, 

Of earth, the air and sky. 
And knowledge of life while living 

As time goes swiftly by. 
The wisdom of all things truly 

That God has said and done, 
The science of law and order 

And knowledge of life to come. 

Wisdom, the depths of its fountain 

By tongue is never told, 
Or fathomed by reseai'ch and toil, 

Its ways never grow old. 
The wisdom of God eternal, 

Wonderful and divine, 
All truth, all wisdom and knowledge 

Are products of His mind. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S fOEMS. 483 

WILLIAM PEIs^N. 
William Fenn, a mighty Penii, 

His labors they were great, 
He left on earth a lasting worth 

As founder of a state. 
He conquered where the army f;iiled 

Above the odds of men, 
And made his life a sweet m cccss 

For earth and William Pi nn. 



WILLIAM HENRY HARPJSON. 
William Henry Harrison, 

A man of noble birth, 
Reached the lank of president 

Through his excessive worth. 
He was a man of merit 

And labored for the right, 
And used liis high position 

To make his record bright. 

He wisely served his country 

In high affairs of state, 
That other men of fortune 

Should wisely imitate. 
Thus other iiearts should labor, 

And try to build up high, 
And wisely do their duty 

Before their time to die. 



THE FUTURE. 

The future is before us, 

It may be clear and bright, 
But as it turns to present, 

It brings its day and night. 
The future yields its changes, 

And O, how dark alone. 
To enter life's existence 

Out into its unknown. 



484 Allen douman'S poeMS. 

WHISKY HABITS. 

Whisky habits, diinkiiig hiibits, 

Maideii usk it when you can, 
Of youi- lover, yes, and proper. 

It' yon wish his heart and hand. 
If you wish to love him tjiily 

It is riiJ:;ht that ) ou should think, 
And before he talks the question. 

Do you know lie does not drink? 

If you think his heart is wanting 

And you doubt a little too, 
It is right you should be posted 

And before he's tied to you. 
If ^you meet him pretty often, 

You should quite as often think. 
Does he waste his precious moments, 

Does he gamble'^ Does he tlrink? 

Hear liis neighbors as they tell it, 

It is proper that you should, 
And be posted of his habits. 

Was he born for any good? 
Future iiopes for you demand it. 

Ere your hopes may sadly sink, 
Ask if he is true and worthy. 

Life is better without drink. 

Do not slight your hopes for Heaven, 

Love and labor have their day, 
It is worry and not labor 

That will tax you on the way. 
See that he is always sober. 

See that he is just tlie man, 
Maiden, maiden, lovely maiden, 

Proper get him if you can. 



ALLEN" DORMAN'S TOEMS. 485 

WORK. 

Yes, work while living all through life, 

And do thj duty best, 
it you succeed in what you should 

Your heart should stand the test. 
Oh, worthy is the useful heart 

That labors with the pen. 
And conquers where the cannon fails 

To help poor fallen men. 

WASTING AWAY. 

Wasting away is nature, 

Wasting away is life, 
And every living creature 

Enlisted in the strife. 
Oh wasting, wasting ever, 

The tide moves constant on, 
For one great sea forever, 

Till all is lost and gone. 

WILLIAM COWPEK 
Like the men of worth and merit, 

Who have well improved their time, 
Was the life of William Cowper 

Spent in making life sublime. 
Spent in building up a credit 

That has swayed the hearts of men, 
Up to high and nobler actions, 

Through liis work of mind and pen. 

Thus we all should live and labor, 

And should strive to do the best, 
Mindful of the works of Cowper, 

And the hearts that he hath blest. 
God has given each a duty, 

Both the lowly and the great, 
Thus that duty should be finished, 

And before it is too late. 



486 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

WIFE THIEVES. 
A gang of daring wife thieves 

Were roving o'er the state, 
And had been robbing liusbands, 

And at a lively rate. 
The wife thieves were in earnest, 

Excitement was intense, 
And husbands thought it proper 

To make some wise defense. 

The wife thieves were successful 

In doing what they would, 
They wanted lovely women, 

And stealing all they could. 
They'd act good dispositions, 

And go to borrow meal. 
But would not tell the husbands 

What they had come to steal. 

They'd love the women gently, 

And look a little gay, 
And charm the women sweetly 

And ran them all away. 
But husbands could not stand it, 

They'd rather give their lives 
Than let their hearts be broken 

About their missing wives. 

They captured one old wife thief, 

A sullen mormon rover, 
He made a plea '^not guilty," 

But yet they bound him over. 
So husbands should be careful, 

And love their women true, 
For fear they take a notion 

To flop away from you. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 487 

WHEN MY LOYELY MAID WAS 
YOUNG. 

When my lovely maid was blooming, 

In the happy clays of yore, 
Then it was she truly loved me, 

With the love she had in store. 
Then we often wore together, 

Then sweet happy songs were sung, 
Then we knew life's sweetest pleasure, 

When my lovely maid was young. 

Often yet come thoughts of pleasure 

When this weary heart is sad, 
Of the time when we were lovers. 

And her pretty looks were glad. 
Oh, I've found no other blessing 

With the claims of any one, 
Half 80 dear as those with maiden, 

When my lovely njaid was young. 

Oh, could life be crowned with blessings 

As it was in days of yore, 
I would live for love and pleasures 

Till this fleeting life was o'er. 
I cannot express my feelings, 

Much too great for mortal tongue, 
Of the times and of the praises 

When my lovely maid was young. 

Maiden fair and maiden friendly. 

May I live for tliee alone. 
May I seek no other truly, 

Sweet to claim and call my own. 
May I love my lovely maiden. 

May we love till life is done, 
May we cherish those sweet pleasures 

When my lovely maid was young. 



488 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

WHEN THE HEART IS SAD. 
When the heart is weak and sad, 

When it must repine, 
Then it seeks in solitude 

Peace that it may find. 
Then it is the heart is moved 

With a longing sigh, 
And to wish impatiently 

Some true help was nigh. 

Yes, the heart is often sad, 

Very sad indeed. 
And may feel despondent much 

When it is in need. 
When true friends desert the heart, 

When they turn aside. 
Then the bosom may endure 

Grief it cannot hide. 

When the clouds are dark above 

And they hide the sun, 
Then the heart may saddened be 

With the grief that comes. 
When the heart is weary most. 

And cannot be glad, 
And when it is worn and weak 

Is when it is sad. 

It must be life's portion then, 

Here to suffer grief, 
And to seek of other hearts, 

Kindness as relief. 
So when hearts are troubled thus, 

Let us make them glad, 
And to give them help in need, 

When their hearts are sad. 



AtLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 480 

WORK IN SEASON. 

Work while living, work in season, 

If we would be blest, 
We must struggle on and upward 

Till the time of rest. 
Work in earnest as a duty, 

Prompt in all we do, 
God who made the worlds and heavens 

Worked in season true. 



WISE FOOLS. 
If you try to rise in life. 

Smartish fools may hinder, 
And they'll try to criticise, 

If you make a blunder. 
They are foes to usefulness. 

They are tools of Satan, 
They are crooks in wisdom's paths, 

Wisdom nuiy not straighten. 

WEARY OF COURTSHIP. 
Weary of courtship much to detest, 
Weary of courting, bound for a rest, 
Seeking and hunting a sweet woman fair. 
Searching for something, weaiy of care. 
Weary of travelin"', no one to love. 
Mocked by the angels, happy above, 
Life is a bui-den. soon will be old. 
Fever is raging, trying the soul. 

Broken down travelin', life is a smash, 
Wrecked in the ruin without a njash. 
Weary of courtship, courting in vain, 
Life is a burden, life is a pain. 
Rivals are working and are ahead, 
Sick of the business, seeking to wed, 
Maidens are cruel, favors the race, 
Satan will catch them out of their place. 



490 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

WHO IS MY GUIDE. 

Who is my guide in tliis lone world, 

'Mid death and pain and grief, 
Where friends are dying all the time, 

And weary life is brief? 
Who is my guide while I am here, 

Where dearest friends must die, 
The true ones and the faithful ones 

We've loved in days gone by? 

Who is my guide in this sad world. 

Where dearest friends must part. 
And blend with earth's mortality 

The doom of every heart ? 
Who is my guide, my earthly guide, 

My council and my stay. 
Such feelings I have often felt 

For one to guide my way. 

WOKLDLY PKAISE. 

Worldly praise is unsubstantial. 

Transient as the passing day. 
Luring life in fancy onward 

With the things that pass away. 
Transient truly as its fountain, 

As its source or fountain store, 
Vain as hearts from whence it cometh. 

Or the clouds that passeth o'er. 

Transient praise may oft commend us. 

For some good we have within. 
And may prompt the heart to action 

With a hope that it may win. 
Yes, such praises are deceiving, 

And may lead the heart astray, 
Yet some hearts may profit by them, 

In a good and useful way. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 491 

WHEN HEARTS ARE CHARMED. 

"Wlien hearts are charmed they must con- 

Uriless they rue and then repent, [sent. 
And if they rue they miss tlie gain 

The heart may hope to sweet retain. 
When hearts are charmed they must con- 

They rest uneasy for a test, [fess, 

Until they sweetly welcome in 

The hearts they hope to safely win. 

When hearts are charmed they stir about, 

Though mashed and smitten in and out, 
And do the work up sweetly right, 

And do it well with all their might. 
But then they rue because they say 

That love is foolish in its play, 
Until they get within the trap 

That binds them sweetly mam and pap. 

WE CANNOT WED. 

We cannot wed since thou hast been 

So angry with surprise, 
And turned away and turned to stay, 

This heart that loved unwise. 
But God is true, he knows it all, 

And he can judge the best, 
Yet it is well to know the hearts 

That fail to stand the test. 

Oh, it was sad to bear the pain 

Of one so far untrue, 
And let the heart lament the same 

The love it now must rue. 
But as it is we cannot wed, 

Since love has sought to blame, 
So let us part and part in peace. 

And not lament the same. 



492 ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 

WRITE TO ME. 

Oh, write to iiie, my maiden, 

Oh write to me, my dear, 
And tell me that you love me 

In words of gentle cheer. 
For I am sad and lonely, 

I know you love me still, 
And that you'll keep your promise 

So easy to fulfil. 

Oh write to me, my lover, 

And free this heart from pain, 
As it has long been sighing 

O'er fears that you are vain. 
May Heaven help you truly 

To share with me your praise, 
And hope of love we cherish 

Of coming sunny days. 

WHEN I GET OLD. 
Wlien I get old and shackled in the knee, 

I want a woman to wait on me, 
Yes, ]ove me best and all she can 

And talk to me, no other man; 
Obey my laws and help me too, 

And care for me and love me true, 
And do the work and wait on me 

When I get old and shackled in theknee. 

When I get old and cannot read, 

I want a woman and one I need 
To think of me and* pleasures share, 

And wait on me with woman's care. 
Confide with me and love me tight, 

And read for me the book I write, 
O happy, O happy, Oh tlien I'll be 

When I get old and shackled in the knee. 



ALLEN DOUMAN'S POEMS. 493 

WONDEKFUL SPIRITS. 
Now Eddie and Samniie were brothers, 

Who thought of what others had said 
Of spirits when leaving the body, 

And wonderful things of the dead. 
They thought o'er the subject in earnest, 

And sought new lessons to learn 
Of positive things of the spirits 

From whence no person returns. 

Yes, often they talked of the wonders, 

Tlie works that spirits could do, 
Their rappings about on the table, 

Yet doubted if such could be true. 
They'd heard of real true spirits, 

Tlieir moving some table and fence, 
And wondered and wondered and v'onder'd 

If such could be logic and sense. 



WAS WliONG. 

Yes, love was wrong but love was true. 

Her heart was turned away. 
Her heait was just a little turned. 

But was not turned to stay. 
Oh yes, her heart was slightly wrong. 

Her heart it passed me by. 
Yes, it was true she slighted me, 

But yet her heait was nigh. 

And thus it was a slight mistake 

To thought less ])ass me by. 
And sweetly shake that confidence 

Which i^ledging did not tie. 
Yes, we have tried to do the right, 

And often love renew, 
And we will claim each other now 

And love each other true. 



M4 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

WHEN WE DIE. 

When we have leaclied life's feeble age, 

And life is nearly done, 
And when we seek in future time 

A better world to come. 
When weeping friends shall gather round. 

And we are called to die, 
When we must leave this troubled world 

And say to all good-bye, 

Oh, then to see life's real past, 

IIow brightly shone the gun. 
And think what future time ehall be 

As future time shall come. 
This earthly woik must have an end, 

And death will 8oon be nigh. 
When hearts may see and realize, 

Its real when we die. 



WON AT LAST. 

Oh yes, my friend has worked it, 

In splicing heart and hand, 
He's gone and has surrendered, 

He's now a married man. 
The girls must be in earnest, 

They seem to see the light, 
And seem to know their business 

And certain they are right. 

May love and peace go with you 

Through fortune's sunny day, 
And when the heart is lonely 

May brighten up the way. 
And when you meet the trials 

Of real life to come, 
Oh, may you meet them manly, 

The same as you have done. 



ALLEN DOBMAN'S POESIS. 495 

WEAK AND WEARY. 

Yes, oft the lieart is weary 

And troubled with some pain, 
And pressed with heavy burdens 

It tries to bear in vain. 
The heart it may be saddened, 

And weary, weak and worn, 
And troubled witii some sorrow 

Tha^t rnakes so many mourn, 

In living out a life-time, 

ThQ heart is often sad, 
And often weak and weary, 

And bitter with the bad. 
Yes, in life's greatest sorrow, 

And in the darkest night, 
And saddest desolation. 

May como some hope of light, 

WEARY HEARTS. 
Weary hearts we find among us, 

As we journey here in life. 
Overcome with heavy burdens, 

Weary with their toil and strife. 
Weary hearts have need of comfort, 

Weary hearts have need of rest. 
And who friendly gives them favors, 

May indeed feel both are blessed. 

Weary hearts are weary soldiers 

Marching under some command, 
Battling with the heavy burdens 

Life must patiently withstand. 
Weary hearts we meet them often. 

Taxed with all that life can give, 
Toiling, toiling, constant toiling. 

Merely for the right to live. 



496 ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 

WHEN WE LABOR. 
Yes, when we labor long and well, 

The good we do will surely tell, 
And hearts who labor all their might 

May have some cruel foe to fight. 
But God alone will see it best. 

As King of Kings will put the test, 
And he will credit in his sight 

The hearts wlio labor for the right. 

Life's heavy care and final goal 

Is spoken true of every soul, 
The good and sad in every heart, 

Who lives this life will know its part. 
And each shall know what others know, 

That real life hath peace and woe. 
But when we labor wise and well, 

Some good result will surely tell. 

WEEDS. 

The weeds that grow prolific 

In garden and the field, 
Grow best upon the soil 

That would a harvest yield. 
And if jou cultivate them 

They never grow so well, 
Nor is a weedy harvest 

A harvest tliat will tell. 

And thus the weedy bosom 

Its weedy s'ns may grow, 
And harbor the snake-i'oosters 

That prowl within them so. 
Then cultivate the bosom, 

And have it pure within, 
And keep it as God made it, 

Without a mar of sin. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 497 

WEARY PILGRIMS. 

This life is tiire a journey, - 

As out upon a plain, 
And many act as soldiers 

With battles lost and gained. 
We toil, we hope and struggle, 

And all along the way 
We march as real pilgrims, 

And rest at close of day. 

And thus as weary pilgrims 

With worn and weary feet, 
Have true a destination 

They journey to complete. 
The pilgrim as he journeys 

Wherever he niay roam, 
His destiny is Heaven, 

His aim and linal home, 

WAITING AND TRUSTING. 
I've been waiting, I^ e been watching, 

With a sad and wistful eye, 
Hoping, trusting for a coming 

Of a harvest by and by. 
Yes. a harvest for niy labors, 

That my efforts may be blest. 
And old age may find a comfort 

In a quiet peaceful rest. 

Ti'ue for many years I've labored - ' '• 

With my hand and with my pen. 
Trusting for the recognition 

That has come to other men. 
But there is a consolation. 

That my woik may find reward. 
It may not be at the present 

But it will be with the Lord. 



498 ALLEN DOUMAN'S POEMS. 

WHY DON'T THEY WEEP. 

This life is such we know not why, 

That dearest friends must part, 
And leave the sacred ties of life 

So dear unto the heart. 
Yes, death must come to every heart, 

Resign as if in sleep, 
And at the moment of its leave 

You never see it weep. 

And nature reigns, and nature is 

The council of its own. 
And nature stands with other laws, 

Pre-eminent alone. 
And when we study life and death, 

And all their mysteries deep, 
We find it true in every case, 

The dying never weep. 

Yes, there are laws that govern life. 

And govern death the same, 
And they are known to every heart, 

They go by nature's name. 
And hearts may suffer in this life, 

And all the things that creep, 
Yet in the awful times of death. 

They never, never weep. 

The law of death reaps every life. 

Its warning is a care. 
And though we travel where we may 

We find it everywhere. 
And all it tells may all be well. 

Though much is hidden deep, 
Yet in the trying scenes of death 

The dying never weep. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 4f9 

WEEPING EMBLEMS. 
How true do weeping emblems, 

Depict tlie sigh of grief 
Of some dear one departed, 

Wh(/Se worthy stay was brief. 
Whose heart was true and useful, 

But it was called to go, 
The weeping emblems offer 

Some sigh we may bestow. 

The cross is true an emblem 

Of Jesus and his love. 
Who offers us salvation 

And Heaven bright above. 
And all the richly blessings 

We have the right to own. 
Are emblems of the blessings 

We'll have in Heaven's home. 



YOUTH'S KINDNESS. 
1 love those days with pleasure, 

Those happy days of yore. 
And often wish in sadness 

That they would come once more. 
And thus review the kindness 

Of times so far away. 
In early days of childhood 

When 1 could run and play. 

'Tis sweet to think of praises. 

When early youth was bright. 
Those thoughts and recollections 

We cherish with delight. 
And feel that youth its kindness 

Was freer than to-day. 
Though time its shades and changes 

Hath hidden much away. 



600 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

YOUTH'S SPORTS. 
I love to think of dajs gone by 

When early youth was free, 
And often call to memory 

The time so dear to me. 
Yes, think of youth when it was bright, 

With all its hopes and praise, 
I love to think of sacred youth, 

Its bright and sunny days. 

When I could run with playmates far. 
And with them .])leasures share, 

Or rest wifh Cailo in my slee]),. 
Away from toil and care. 

When I could draw my little sled 
With brothers at mv side. 

While coasting up and down the hill, 
And gladly take a ride. 

Yes, then it was the heart was free 

And drew no note of time, 
And all the pleasures that we knew 

Were sacred and sublime. [glad 

Then hopes were bright and hearts were 

With sports of funny glee. 
And hopes that lured us sweetly on 

Were sacred as could be. 

But youth is gone yes, sadly gone, 

And borne those joys away, 
And life has changed untimely with 

The wearings of decay. 
Oh. I would have those j<\ys return, 

Those happy sports and ])raise 
For they are sacred with me yet 

Those sunny, golden days. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 501 

YOUTH'S EESOLYES. 
Youth comes but once, it cannot stay, 

Its rosy dreams are brief, 
And all its bright and sunny plans 

May soon be turned to grief. 
Its hopes are bright thro' vain pursuits 

But labors on with glee, 
And lays its plans for future life, 

I know it was with me. 

I've rambled in my sports from home 

In search of pleasure's gain. 
And often when my heart was sad 

I've felt my efforts vain. 
But still the heart has labored on 

Through trouble and through care, 
And often felt at duty's task 

Had more than its share. 

Life's trials have been sad indeed, 

When life should have been free, 
And many friends and kindred hearts 

Have not been true to me. 
My heart has had its share of grief 

In life's unsettled lot, 
And many foes gone unrevenged. 

And troubles most forgot. 

Through bitter grief and broken heart 

I've passed and often tried, 
And often thought at midnight task 

To lay my pen aside. 
But I must work and labor now 

Until my work is done, 
That life may see its work may have 

A harvest vet to come. 



\ ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

YOUTH. 

How blight, how clear, how vivid, 

The early thoughts of youth, 
When age turns back in earnest 

The vale of time and truth. 
And there reveals the pleasures 

Of early youthful days, 
The heart esteems as sacred 

In terms of highest praise. 

When hopes were bright before us. 

The future was a iield, 
The lieart was keen to enter 

And reap a harvest yield. 
Sweet youth, bright youth we cherish, 

And all its roses fair. 
As spring of hope and labor 

It knew not life's dull care. 



YOUKG AND TRETTY. 

Young and pretty, fair and lovely, 

Every time we meet, 
She is blooming with the beauties 

That are always sweet. 
Nature gives her pretty graces. 

Sweet ten thousand fold, 
And they are so very lovely, 

They would charm the soul. 

Young and pretty, young and pretty. 

Sweet as honey too. 
She is lovely as the morning, 

And her heart is true. 
Yes, her heart is full of praises. 

And is full of love. 
Surely envied by the angels. 

Looking on above. 



ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 503 

ZACHAKY TAYLOK. 

The great men, bright and worthy, 

Who build up in tliis life, 
Are apt to oft encounter, 

The stings of foe and strife. 
But when they will, may conquer 

In some design or end, 
Or in some useful purpose 

God's given unto men. 

The great hearts who are models 

Have had to toil for right. 
And overcome to conquer, 

To make their laboi's bright. 
'Tis thus the foe opposing 

The metal of the soul. 
That makes it show its merit. 

And glitter like pure gold. 

ZEAL. 

True zeal will surely conquer 

And overcome the foe. 
And help to gain life's battles. 

And make a worthy show. 
Zeal is the motive power 

That strengthens every nerve, 
And prompts the heart to action 

In what the heart may serve. 

Yes, zeal is truly needed 
. In every work of life, 
Where toil and care and patience 

Are interwoven with strife. 
Then let us use the methods 

That help to overcome 
In what is good and useful, 

That life may be '-well done." 



sat ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

DOWN IN HELL. 
Down in hell maj keep you going, 
O'er the burning brimstone glowing, 
Down in hell may keep you turning. 
One side freezing, other burning. 
If for hell your bark is sailing, 
Where the poor lost souls are wailing, 
You may see the demons roasting 
And the devil round them boasting. 



SEEDS WE SCATTER. 
The seeds we scatter in the noon-day of 
life, 
We reap for the heart and the soul, 
Its harvest is sure, its reward is secure. 

More sacred than silver and gold. 
This life is a journey we travel but once, 

The world's a producing field. 
And seeds we scatter will spring up and 
grow, 
For hearts are as soils that yield. 

And the seeds we scatter on the rocks and 
sands 
May all be scattered in vain, 
Yet the good words spoken to the haughty 
and proud 
May move some sinful-thought stain. 
Yet God in His glory doth watch our frail 
hearts. 
He knows the struggles within, 
And the battles we fight to make the 
world good, 
The Lord will help us to win. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 505 

A PRAYER FOR LITTLE GIRLS. 

My Father in Heaven, be friendly with nie, 
And teacl) me truly wliere Heaven may be, 
And sweetly establish a Heavenly world. 
Where angels may welcome all poor little girls. 
Good Father in Heaven, thou hearest my prayer, 
My pleading and asking, thy love and tliy care, 
Fray keep me from danger, from sin and from harm, 
And shield me in safety with thy loving arm 

Kind Father in Heaven, look down upon me, 
And help me to ever look off' unto thee, 
Save me from danger this night while I sleep, 
And all thro' my slumbers thy presence pray keep. 
When slumbers are over and morning shall come, 
And I shall awake and see the bright sun, 
Tiien Father in Heaven, pray help me once more 
To oflPer up praises tiie same as before. 

Dear Father in Heaven, have mercy on me, 
A poor little person that's trusting in thee, 
And take me to Heaven where all may be blest, 
Forever from sorrow and unto thy breast. 
Bless father and mother and give them thy care, 
Bless sisters and brothers and little girl s prayer, 
And take us all sweetly to Heaven above 
Where we may know better thy blessings and love. 



AN OCCASIONAL PUFF. 
'Tis nice to be noted with neighboring men, 
And how the kind editor uses his pen, 
When editors friendly are social enough 
To give their neighbors an occasional puff. 
When life is convenient and editors speak 
Of things that's happening during the week, 
Of trading and traveling, and weather how rough, 
With prominent men, an occasional puff. 



506 ALLEN DOKMANS POEMS. 

All editors usually are very fine men, 
When proper they handle the editor's pen; 
'lis nice and proper with aged and all 
To pay the editor an occasional call. 
And speak of the parties' political plan, 
And policy of running a candidate man, 
And then its proper and proper enough 
To have him favor an occasional puff. 



FANNIE. 
O Fannie, O Fannie, the crisis has come, 
This heart is broken o'er what you have done, 
You knew I loved you, the best I could do, 
And least suspected that gossip was true. 
This heart is wretched from earliest dawn, 
My maiden, my lover, is sold and is gone; 
Oh, you were hasty, your actions were vain, 
You've clouded this bosom with sorrow and pain. 

Sweet birds and spring time and all that I see. 
That brought sweet blessings are nothing to me, 
The prize of ambition I've valued so high. 
And fancied so often was drawing so nigh. 
And all rich blessings of honor and fame. 
That treasure efforts and build up a name. 
Yes. all these, Fannie, once sacred were thine. 
Thy heart and bosom I claimed them as mine. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, perhaps I was wrong, 

Must look now to others and give them my t^ong. 

Oh, none can cheer me or give me relief. 

The thoughts of thy sinning, brings sorrow and grief. 

The bard in his labors of verses and rhyme 

May never depict the sorrows of time. 

You've given me sorrows that never may cease, 

Oh, feign would I rue them and slumber in peace. 




JAMES A. GARFIELD.-PAGE 507. 



ALLEN J)6rMaM'S POEM^. SO? 

JAMES A. GAKFIELD. 
The great and the worthy, the noble and true, 
Are subject to trials in all that they doj 
The worthy may suffer and linger in pain, 
And mourn as a victim of envy and blame. 
And thus it was truly with Mr. Garfield, 
He fought like a soldier, with armor and shield. 
And overcome truly the ramparts of strife, 
And triumphed in battle, the battle of life. 

His life was a journey of duty and care, 
His death an example of trials and prayer. 
Till angels had summoned his trials to cease, 
And bid that his spirit should go forth in peace. 
Our nation's great leader, its ruler and friend. 
Its great beloved chieftain, a man among men. 
May Heaven be honored and angels be blest. 
To know that liis portion is Heavenly rest. 

GIVE ME ONE LINE. 
Give me one line in the book you are writing. 

One word for memory's store. 
That I may have something to show for my time 

When I pass for eternity's shore. 
No heart ever beat more promising than this, 

With sunlight, glory and health. 
But it asks of thee and to do for this heart, 

What it failed to do for self. 

Oh, give mo one line, I will take it as kind, 

I need its blessings to-day, 
Ere unlike the good Lord who made the great worias, 

Ne'er idled his time away. 
It is wise that we toil and build for the heart 

A hope more precious than pearl. 
Yes, a token of worth for Heaven and earth, 

As proof we lived in the world. 



m ALLEN DOUxMaN'S PoEMS. 

GEMS IN DUST. 

How oft do we pass by the gems that are nigh, 

Unnoticed, unheeded in dust, 
Could see them so well, so gentle and true, 

If we but had hearts that could trust. 
Pure gems, bright gems, in their g\ovy and pride, 

Destined for others to reap. 
We see them, we pass them and idly bj, 

As if our souls were asleep. 

They are there all the same, pure gems in dust, 

If we but had eyes that could see. 
Or some one would claim and hold them in view. 

And show what their merits might be. 
And thus it is true, how true with our hearts, 

Some persons are gems in the dust, 
Their worth and merits unseen by our hearts, 

Till some one may show them to us. 

FATHER COME HOME. 

Father come home to thy friends once more, 
And live for the peace that's waiting in store, 
Keturn to thy home, thy duties pursue. 
If the heart would be right the heart must be true. 
The war is all over, its sorrow and pain, 
And foes are not angry with censure and blame, 
They prided themselves with hope of reward, 
But reaped for their conscience the fruits of their 
fraud. 

Come home to us father, dear father come home. 
Thy feet must be weary, wherever they roam. 
Hearts manly may battle and try to be right, 
Tho' even tliey conquer may lose in the fight. 
Strife cannot be conquered when hearts are not true. 
Proves only distraction in all that we do ; 
Life's days may be darkened and changed into night, 
Yet time the avenger makes everything right. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 509 

FAIR MORNmG. 
Fair is the morning that opens in day, 
And dazzles our troubles and drives them away, 
And bears its mission, its glories of light, 
Its phantoms of pleasure, its hopes and delight. 
Oh, morning, fair morning, what have I for thee, 
That thou should favor thy blessings with me, 
And lavish thy glories so freely with all. 
Oh, happy, fair morning, we welcome thy call. 

Oh, morning, fair morning, that beautiful morn. 
That emblem of Heaven, arrayed in its dawn. 
Oh, welcome that morning, and welcome its light, 
Those raptures of Heaven, all golden and bright. 
The dawning of Heaven its glorious day. 
That morning of mornings in golden array. 
With us is the promise that morning so free, 
The glorious dawning of eternity 

KISSING AND COURTING. 

When kissing and courting is mingled all up 
And nothing's inserted that makes it corrupt, 
'Tis certainly healthy for maiden and male, 
When loving each other with faces all pale. 
To sharply consider the reason and why 
That love is found wanting when lingering nigh, 
Till love is ignited with purified bliss. 
And sharply collides with a terrible kiss. 

Yes, kissing with courting is certainly right. 
When sparking in earnest on Sunday night. 
When Sunday is coming with pleasures all new. 
And hearts beat happy that kissing is too. 
Then kissing with courting should properly go, 
Each other together so nicely you know. 
All glory to coui'ting when kissing is nigh, 
Together they flourish, together they fly. 



510 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

LOYE. 
In love's social circle sweet pleasures we find, 
The theme of its pleasure its blessings divine, 
All friendly conipanions are labors of love, 
And treasure its blessings for Heaven above. 
When love in its beauty goes forth to be blest, 
It shines as a jewel with those who love best, 
And brightens each bosom with hopes uf its own, 
That hearts may enjoy its more perfect home. 

True love in selection yields sigh unto sigh, 
With true, warm affections seeks earnestly nigh, 
In love there is beauty in all thtit we tind, 
And songs of summer bring peace to the mind. 
Sweet flowers that blossom so fiesh and i<o new, 
Spring lessons of loving with all that is trnej 
Yes, love is the jewel that wakes in the breast. 
And seeks its treasure to love it the best. 

You speak of sweet love, its pleasure and fame, 

You ask its meaning, its glory and name. 

Oh, Heaven, sweet Heaven, true love is its own. 

True love's its meaning, the heart is its home. 

Go ask of the angels its meaning above, 

I cannot explain it, but yet I will love; 

In loving the Savior sweet blrssings we find. 

Its pleasure is sacred, its nature divine. 

Sweet love and its pleasures forever will stay. 
When earth and its beauties have all passed awav 
When death shall dismantle this heart from its own 
The bondage of loving will gather us home. 
Then love in its glory we fully shall see. 
Sweet love that's waiting for you and for me. 
There angels shall welcome all golden and new, 
A crown for each lover that's faithful and true. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 511 

LOVE TO-NIGHT. 

Oh, to-niglit I love thee, yes, darling, thee, 
Will you, will you love me, yes, only nie ? 
I have sought to rue thee, once, once, away. 
But I have returned, love, and returned to stay. 
I am worn and sad, love, but I'm liere to-night. 
Will you trade yourself, love, with your charms so 

bright, 
I am troubled now, love, something's in the heart. 
Something like the question, waiting for a start. 

Will you claim me now, love, and my wishes fill, 
Now so fondly trusting in this bosom still, 
Yes, my darling, sweet love, now so dear to me. 
Will yon take this heart, love, all alone to thee? 
All alone to-night, love, would you rather not. 
Sweetly let the q'U'stion, love, love, pop. 
All alone to-night, love, solemn, silent pray, 
Yes, yes, sweet love, ready darling say. 

DON'T BE A FOOLIN'. 
Don't be a fool in', your girl may marry, 

Don't be a foolin', she's single still, 
Don't be a foolin', your girl will nnirry. 

If you don't get her, another will. 
Don't be a foolin', your girl should marry, 

Don't be a foolin', she's waited long. 
Don't be a foolin', your girl might marry, 

Don't be a foolin,' she's almost gone. 

Don't be a foolin,' your man might marry, 

Don't be a f(K)lin', love has a ])iice. 
Don't be a foolin', your man will marry, 

Don't be a foolin', he wants to splice. 
Don't be a foolin', the people do marrj'. 

Don't be a foolin', they are for self. 
Don't be a foolin', the people should marry. 

Don't be a foolin', or you'll get left. 



612 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MAIDEN. 

The charms of fair maiden are treasures untold, 
More sacred in value than silver and gold, 
The praises of maiden when faithful and true, 
With men are the fondest, their hearts may pursue. 
The love of fair maiden when gentle and kind, 
Is nearest and dearest the bosom may find. 
Her smiles and her graces, so lovely and fair, 
Are emblems of beauties that angels may wear. 

The beauties of maiden are emblems of worth, 
Like gems of fair Eden, had fallen to earth, 
And tinted her features with magical dye, 
Like the forms of angels from Heaven on high. 
The kindness of maiden is blessings of good. 
And her good deeds cherished as truly they should, 
Till God in His glory shall welcome her right, 
Safe home to the beautiful, lovely and bright. 

Oh, maiden, fair maiden, O beautiful maid, 
Thy chai-ms and features untimely must fade, 
And time in its hurry, tho' wonderful swift. 
Must move life onward like timbers of drift. 
And life in its losing must offer and give 
The charms we cherish that the soul may live. 
And leave with fair maiden no beauties that stay. 
The beauties of maiden are passing away. 

We'll worship her beauties, yes, worship, why not, 
For when she's faded she's sadly forgot, 
Yes, give her while bloomii.g a token of love. 
And meet her while blooming in Lleaven above. 
Yes, cherish her beauties thro' honor and fame. 
And give them like Heaven a glorified name. 
For what are fair beauties beneath the earth's sun, 
If wasted while blooming, unhonored, unsung. 



ALLEN DOflMAN'S POEMS. 533 

MAMIE. 

DECEASED SCHOOLMATE. 

Oh Mamie, Miss Mamie, so lovely and fair, 
Has left us lieie lonely, wiliiout a beware, 
Likeflowei'stliatVe flourished in the field and alone 
And blossomed in season, unseeking to mourn. 
When chills of congestion in month of July, 
Have released her spirit and bid it to fly 
To Heaven, sweet Heaven, more brighter than earth, 
tJnchased by shadows in a land of her birth. 

Oh beautiful Mamie, her songs will be sweet, , 
Her robes will be purple, untarnished and neat, 
Her home is in Heaven that kingdom of love, 
Not weary, not troubled, with angels above. 
Miss Mamie, fair Mamie, how vacant her seat. 
In schoolroom and carriage, and parlor so neat, 
The angels have honored her spirit to save. 
The spirit of Mamie from sin and the grave. 

Oh Mamie, lovely Mamie, her features have fled, 
Like roses their beauties have faded and dead, 
Have perished forever her beauties so gay. 
The beauties of Mamie have faded away. 
'Twas death of her nature that came to her heart. 
And served its snmnjons for life to depart. 
Her heart was the victim, her soul was the gain, 
And sweetly departed forever from pain. 

How dark and dismal are the reals of life. 
The reals of living thro' turmoil and strife. 
And bitter, yes, bitter, how bitter the part 
Of those lamenting, o'er the loss of some heart. 
The heart it may ramble to forest away. 
And listen to robin sing cheerful and gay. 
And see the wild willow with its vines all riven, 
Yes, riven like features of Mamie in Heaven. 



B14 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

Or go to the maple of fondly sweet yore, 

And there 'ncatii its branches lay saddened once more, 

Or visit the graves of friends in dismay, 

And see liow the features of life pass away. 

Yes, go to the dearest we truly loved best, 

And leave there our roses with loved ones at rest. 

Or go to the hillside with brooklet close by, 

And think 'mid the yearnings loved spirits are nigh. 

Tho' such are the feelings with friends thatmustpart. 
Yet still there is promise down deep in the heart, 
On Eden's fair plains she's richer than gold. 
And depths of her joys can never be told. 
Thus will she tarry in that home far away, 
When playmates are old she'll continue to stay, 
When days of life's harvest have passed us by, 
She'll continue to live in Heaven on high. 

Ob, could we but visit where loved ones might be, 
And tell the sweet story when youth was once free, 
And speak of the pleasures of childhood so dear. 
The pleasures remembered with fondness and cheer. 
Oh, wonder if spirits have knowledge or care 
Of words we utter, of spirits once fair, 
Their features once blooming with graces so fine, 
Are blooming far brighter in Heaven divine. 

She sleeps in her beauties beneath the green sod, 
Her soul has departed and gone to its God, 
She like a true Christian endured to live, 
And found that in death 'twas sweet to forgive. 
When millennium's morning shall dawn with its prize, 
Miss Mamie will be with the first to arise, 
There's grandeur in trusting the bloom of a day, 
That teaches to cherish what 'masses away. 



ALLEN DOKMAN'S POEMS. 515 

TO LOVE THEE. 

Seeking to love tliee and dearest of all, 
Hoping to claim thee whatever befalls, 
Waiting thy answer, thy velconje alone, 
Seeking thy promise forever to own. 
Waiting a promise, a promise so free, 
Hoping and trusting a promise from thee, 
Seeking tliy promise more safely seer re, 
More binding, lasting and certain and iuve. 

Seeking to love thee with pleasure's good will, 
Hoping and trusting more patiently still, 
Waiting iti earnest and lonely each night, 
Seeking to worship thy beauties so bright. 
Heaven have mercy and welcome the day. 
When lovers shall tarry together their way, 
Tarry forever as lovers should do, 
Happy together, contented and true. 

WATCHING THE SUNBEAMS. 

Yes, watching the sunbeams that come from the sky, 
And scatter sweet blessings so far and so nigh, 
They come in their glory, dispel all the night. 
Wherever they settle they scatter the light. 
Oh, it is a pleasure to watch the sunbeams, 
Their smiles of true gladness in so many scenes. 
The sunbeams are emblems of Heavenly light. 
That moves and forever, all clouds and all night. 

RESEARCH. 

The research of thinkers, that search high and deep. 
And bring forth to surface the pure gems that sleep, 
The gold dust of merit so pure and so bright, 
They rouse it from slumbers to shed forth its light. 
Oh, praise to the scholars who labor to give, 
The fruits of their knowledge we have while we live. 
The research of thinkers, they w:^ke the bris-ht gems, 
To shine as the morning as bk'ssiiigb for men. 



616 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

MY BIRTHPLACE. 
I look back tliro' vision and see what I may, 
The scene of niv childhood so plain far away, 
Those early injpiessions so vivid and brigiit, 
Are dimmed by tlie distance that time has on sight. 
Yet true with those visions, the sight remains clear, 
The scenes of my birthj^lacemy heai-t loved so dear, 
Those sceneries are sacred because they aie true. 
And unto my vision seem pleasant and new. 

Oh, yes, the scene's vivid, Vd tell if I could, 
How lone on the prairie the old cabin stood, 
Its cracks chinked with mortar, its rude boarded 

floor, 
With its old stone chimney and old creaking door. 
The old clumsy table, the old mantle stand, 
Its fire-place handy, yard would not span, 
The scenes of the cabin my infancy knew. 
Are pleasant in fancy tho' sad to review. 

All's lost, all is lost, is my birthplace thro' change, 

Save, up to this writing, the cabin remains, 

The logs of the cabin tho' rotten and old. 

Are unto this bosom more precious than gold, 

The gold may be sacred, yet cannot in truth 

As represent the real of things of my youth, 

The sweep and the wood-pile, the prairie grass 

green. 
Hath given place sadly to far different scene. 

Yet the sun still rises, in all the splendor, 
It rose on that morn of ninth of September, 
The hills and the hollows are not sadly gone. 
The birds arc still singing their old cheerful song. 
Oh, faded the cabin, its scenery away, 
Its shadow I'll save it, while truly I may, 
Yet scenes of my birthplace that once made me glad, 
I cannot review them without feeling sad. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 517 

KEMEMBERED SICKNESS. 
Arise from thy sickness and make thyself free, 
While I can't be with you, I send this to thee; 
Thy heart may be burdened with sickness and pain, 
And efforts of triumph seem sadly in vain. 
But yet I trust truly thy- heart may soon mend. 
And take this in kindness, this message I send; 
Yes, pardon me truly, thy worthy one fair. 
And rue not this effort, this favor I share. 

I'd share with thy burden, a portion my own, 
Tho' I cannot see thee, I'll let it be known ; 
I know not the feelings you've cherished with me, 
Tho' humble this favor, its sacred and free. 
The Lord in His goodness hath taught us to live, 
And scatter the kindness the heart has to give, 
For soon will life fail us and seasons be o'er, 
To scatter the blessings we all have in store. 

SMOOTH SAILING. 
Smooth sailing, sweet sailing, we fancy we sail, 
When health and treasures protect us from fail, 
When life is all girded and prospects are bright, 
We sail then smoothly with hope and delight. 
When waters are quiet and the prize is in view. 
Our bark decorated, all furnished and new. 
It plows the deep waters, in triumph and pride, 
And sails but in fancy, all trusted and tried. 

But when the deep waters swell angry and high, 
And the dark clouds gather and danger is nigh, 
'Tis the hope of religion for you and for me. 
That bears us in triumph safe over the sea. 
For angels are watching and guide our lone bark, 
While the storm is raging and the night is dark. 
So fear not, young pilgrim, tho' life is untried. 
If God is your pilot, you'll have a safe ride. 



618 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

KEY. KNOWLE SHAW. 

How sad to the heart, how sad to the heart, 
When death divides friends and bids them to part. 
Those dear ones and loved ones whose labors were 

true, 
Who labored for others, for me and for you. 
Who taught us life's duty and how to obey 
The Savior of Heaven, the light and the way. 
That we may be watchful and worthy and true, 
More careful and better in all that we do. 

How dear to my heart are triends of my youth, 
Whose efiorts lirst guided nje on-w ard in truth, 
When youthful and careless and likely to stray, 
Came friends to my rescue and showed me the way. 
The way that was sacred and safely and true. 
Where God in His glory sees all that Me do. 
Away from contentions, from anger and strife, 
The way of the Christian that leads unto life. 

That time is remembered, that sweet lonely spot, 
Yes, sweetly remembered, tho' much is forgot, 
When choosing my Savior and choosing His law. 
And preached in the sermons of Rev. Knowle Shaw. 
To come to the fountain, all ye who athirst, 
I went, was welcomed, by him was immersed, 
The fount of salvation of God and His cause, 
To learn and obey His teachings and laws. 

And thus are the precepts that pastors should teach, 
The teachii'gs of Jesns whenever they preach, 
And turn from their vices what sinners they can. 
And tell th^m of Jesns at Heaven's command. 
The Jesus of N: zareth who died on the tree, 
As Father o( martyrs for you and for me 



ALLEN, DORM AN'S POEMS. 519 

He suffered His trials and finished His call, 
And gave as a ransom his life for us all. 

And thus were the labors of him who was loved, 
Who dwells now in Heaven forever above, 
He labored in earnest beneath a bright sun, 
His name is remembered, hy what he lias done. 
He labored for Heaven, the light of the soul, 
And to live with his God was his constant goal; 
Thus lea^^ing his labors and seeking his rest, 
His'spirit is happj and Heaven is blest. 



WELCOME, THRICE WELCOME. 

We welcome, tlirice welcome, true friendship once 

moie, 
As it has the comforts that only friends know, 
Sweet moments of blessings away from dull care, 
Heai'ts fondly may chei'iisli such pleasures to share. 
And love in its socials may truly love know. 
Like embers in furnace together they glow, 
And thus in the socials of gathering hearts 
Love brightens like embers with mystical art. 

Oh, welcome, thi'ice welcome, true love back to me, 

Its blessings as fieely as love used to be, 

When hearts used to ramble the river-side long. 

In noon-day of glorv. in s])ring-time of song. 

When life could enjoy its praises as bright 

As ever the morning aw^oke with delight, 

When youth with its blessings knew all that it 

could, 
And God in His glory was graciously good. 



680 ALLEN DORMANS POEMS. 

WILLIAM LLOYD STEWAET. 

IN MEMoKIAM. 

Sad death and its doings are sure with the heart, 
And soul from each bosom must sadly depart, 
And leave and forever the home of its birth, 
And seek in another a better tlian earth. 
This life with its clianges can never be true. 
Where fortunes for many is found but with few, 
We learn from life's blessings, we can or we may, 
While life and its blessings are passing away. 

Bo let us bo faithful and labor and learn, 
And gather in harvest, a harvest's return. 
And treasure for Heaven a bountiful store, 
Where friends are waiting to greet us once more. 
We gather from nature its lessons the best. 
The wisdom of nature, that life may be blest, 
If wisdom we honor, tho' humble and poor, 
A crown we'll merit, its harvest is sure. 

'Tis hope that will cheer us with beauties of song, 
And help us and guide us and keep us from wrong, 
And save for the bosom a blessing complete, 
And comfort life's journey, more pleasant and sweet. 
In sorrow we suffer and often endure 
The pain for the pleasure that's never secure, 
They teacli in sadness how transient their worth, 
How passing, how fleeting, the pleasures of earth 

Still nature is busy, moves steadily on, 
Uncertain and constant life moves until gone, 
The flowers and seasons they steadily come, 
And birds are singing beneath the same sun. 
And life with its losings, teach lessons the same, 
The sunlight and sliadows for others remain ; 
And in earth's teachings there's nothing that stays, 
The earth and its changes are passing away. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 621 

FAREWELL TO THEE, FANNIE. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, farewell, farewell, 
The depths of my sorrows none other can tell; 
My sorrows are many, my pleasures are few, 
My hopes are all blasted forever with you. 
My troubles are bitter, O bitter indeed. 
This wound in my bosom continues to bleed, 
My heart with its sorrows has more than its share, 
Its weary and ladened with trouble and care. 

My troubles are many and crushing me down. 
My bosom is broken and bleeds from its wound; 
I try to rue gently my troubles away, 
But still they follow wherever I stray. • 
My pathway's shadowed with sorrow and gloom, 
And gives my soul warning of its horrible doom; 
I know I'm troubled with sorrow and pain, 
The sin that caused it was cruel and vain. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, I'll see thee no more, 
My pleasures with Fannie are ended and o'er, 
I know I am ruined with sorrows I see, 
The God of all nature is angry with me. 
Oh, my dreams of horror, of danger and care, 
I fancy I'm dungeoned in sin and despair, 
I'm weary with troubles, I fancy I see 
The songs of all nature are nothing to me. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, I trust you are blessed. 
Farewell to thy beauties, the charms I loved best, 
Farewell to thee, Fannie, tho' I am away. 
Yet you are remembered each night and each day. 
I feel I am ruined, I claim not my own, 
I sink in my sadness, I wander and mourn; 
And all for thee, Fannie, yes, only for you, 
My heart is forsakened and cannot be true. 



582 ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, and all that I claimed, 
'Tis bitter to cherish thy beautiful name, 
The past will I cherish for what it has been. 
The part that was pleasant tin;' ended in sin. 
Good-b)e to thee, Fannie, I trust you may live, 
Whatever's between us I'll truly forgive, 
And hope for the future that all will be right, 
That time may remove this gloom from my sight. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, farewell, good-bye, 
I feel 1 am failing and shortly must die; 
Yes, I am forsakened, I'm ruined I know, 
I wander in sadness wherever I go. 
My future is darkened with sorrow and gloom, 
I see in my future the scene of my tomb; 
There's noThing 1 cherish, no flower, no song. 
My death is forthcoming, it cannot be long. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, I'm lonely each night, 
Since you have left me and gone from my sight; 
Oh, you were so lovely and dearest to me. 
My love for thy beauties was kindled by thee ; 
The love that was kindled now lingers in pain, 
And sighs in this bosom again and again; 
Oh Fannie, fair Fannie, so lovely and free, 
In loving thee, Fannie, was pleasure with me. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, since you are away, 
And I in my troubles live sadly each day; 
Yes, while in my troubles you wander from me, 
I loved you, dear Fannie, when once you were free. 
My love for thee, Fannie, has suffered its blight, 
'Twas nature's selection and certain was right, 
The gloom in my bosom has darkened each day, 
And while in my troubles, 'tis likely to stay. 



ALLEN DORMAN'S POEMS. 623 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, with words that are true, 

I tell you I loved you, I loved only you, 

You thought I was distant when you were once free, 

But was I not faithful and true unto thee? 

I've heard your own story of who was to blame, 

But 1 will keep quiet and you do the same; 

Yes, bury our troubles whatever they be. 

Since troubles have taken thy presence from me. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, I cannot be true. 
Since hopes are all blasted forever with you; 
I wander in weakness,|in sorrow and gloom, 
The end of n}y journey is certain and soon. 
My heart is aching each day and each night. 
My pathway so gloomy may never be bright. 
My hope for the future may brighten no more, 
AlTs blasted forever, alPs ended and o'er. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, foi-ever good-bye, 

I loved you, dear Fannie, when once you was nigh. 

My love for thee, Fannie, was yearning each day. 

And often was thoughtless in what I would say. 

There's nothing more luring than love in its cheer, 

'Twill carry us further thro' danger and fear. 

It will make life better in all that we do. 

If love be found loving with love that is true. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, I'll witness no more, 
The sweetness of praises with loved ones of yore, 
The praise of youth's freedom all golden and bright, 
When I could once wander in summer of light. 
Yet ]>leasures and praises and all that is gay, 
Like moments are passing untimely away j j-l 
Yes, praises are passing and pleasures are vain, 
And love forsakened may languish in pain. 



524 ALLEN DOltMANS POEMS. 

Farewell to thee, Fanuie, 'tis all for tlic best, 
But yet I hope truly that you may bo blest ; 
I hope you may prosper and labor for right, 
And that your journey'U be pleasant and bright. 
Yes, set your mark careful and lasting above, 
And make thyself worthy of what I have loved • 
Be honest, be earnest, be faithful and true, 
Teach lessons to others what labors may do. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, and all that is dear. 
In parting I tremble with sorrow and fear; 
Farewell to thy beauties all blooming and gay, 
So pretty, so winning, were lovely each day. 
Thy beauties so charming were lovely divine. 
Oh, would to God, Fannie, that they had been mine; 
All glory, all praises, fair woman, for thee. 
Oh, Fannie, fair Fannie, was taken from me. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, and all that was true, 
My life has been ruined and only by you j 
Oh, were I contented, my troubles would cease, 
Fd go to the mountains and live there in peace. 
Yes, far in the mountains I'd live and secure. 
Where fountains of waters are sparkling and pure, 
Where birds sing praises far, far in the west. 
And nature is healthy for those who need rest. 

Farewell to thee, Fannie, farewell, farewell, 
The only forsakened my sorrows can tell. 
My troubles are bitter, each sorrowing day. 
Like clouds that's broken are passing away. 
Farewell to thee, Fannie, the first and the last. 
Till troubles are over and sorrows are past; 
My sorrows are many and bitter to tell. 
But as it is, Fannie, forever farewell. 



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